Yet there was that within thee which has saved Thy glory, and redeemed thy blotted name; The story of thy better deeds, engraved 16On fame's unmouldering pillar, puts to shame Our chiller virtue; the high art to tame The whirlwind of the passions was thy own; And the pure ray, that from thy bosom came, Far over many a land and age has shone, And mingles with the light that beams from God's own throne. 

Yet there was that within thee which has saved

Thy glory, and redeemed thy blotted name;

The story of thy better deeds, engraved

16

On fame's unmouldering pillar, puts to shame

Our chiller virtue; the high art to tame

The whirlwind of the passions was thy own;

And the pure ray, that from thy bosom came,

Far over many a land and age has shone,

And mingles with the light that beams from God's own throne.

XVIII

 And Rome—thy sterner, younger sister, she Who awed the world with her imperial frown— Rome drew the spirit of her race from thee, The rival of thy shame and thy renown. Yet her degenerate children sold the crown Of earth's wide kingdoms to a line of slaves; Guilt reigned, and woe with guilt, and plagues came down, Till the North broke its floodgates, and the waves Whelmed the degraded race, and weltered o'er their graves. 

And Rome—thy sterner, younger sister, she

Who awed the world with her imperial frown—

Rome drew the spirit of her race from thee,

The rival of thy shame and thy renown.

Yet her degenerate children sold the crown

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