WE walked where Victor Jove was shrined awhile, And passed to Livia's rich red mural show, Whence, thridding cave and Criptoportico, We gained Caligula's dissolving pile. And each ranked ruin tended to beguile The outer sense, and shape itself as though It wore its marble gleams, its pristine glow Of scenic frieze and pompous peristyle. When lo, swift hands, on strings nigh overhead, Began to melodize a waltz by Strauss: It stirred me as I stood, in Caesar's house, Raised the old routs Imperial lyres had led, And blended pulsing life with lives long done, Till Time seemed fiction, Past and Present one. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GREEN MOUNTAIN IDYL by HAYDEN CARRUTH A POEM FROM THE EDGE OF AMERICA by JAMES GALVIN THE RIVALS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE GARDEN BY MOONLIGHT by AMY LOWELL CHRISTMAS AT INDIAN POINT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TO DISRAELI ON CONSERVATISM by MARIANNE MOORE |