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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341401" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>In The Forum</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The last warm gleams of sunset fade<br>From cypress spire and stonepine dome,<br>And, in the twilight's deepening shade,<br>Lingering, I scan the wrecks of Rome.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Husht the Madonna's Evening Bell;<br>The steers lie loosed from wain and plough;<br>The vagrant monk is in his cell,<br>The meek nun-novice cloistered now.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Pedant's presumptuous voice no more<br>Vexes the spot where Caesar trod,<br>And o'er the pavement's soundless floor<br>Come banished priest and exiled God.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The lank-ribbed she-wolf, couched among<br>The regal hillside's tangled scrubs,<br>With doting gaze and fondling tongue<br>Suckles the Vestal's twin-born cubs.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet once again Evander leads<br>Æneas to his wattled home,<br>And, throned on Tiber's fresh-cut reeds,<br>Talks of burnt Troy and rising Rome.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From out the tawny dusk one hears<br>The half-feigned scream of Sabine maids,<br>The rush to arms, then swift the tears<br>That separate the clashing blades.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Lictors with their fasces throng<br>To quell the Commons' rising roar,<br>As Tullia's chariot flames along,<br>Splashed with her murdered father's gore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her tresses free from band or comb,<br>Love-dimpled Venus, lithe and tall,<br>And fresh as Fiumicino's foam,<br>Mounts her pentelic pedestal.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">With languid lids, and lips apart,<br>And curving limbs like wave half-furled,<br>Unarmed she dominates the heart,<br>And without sceptre sways the world.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nerved by her smile, avenging Mars<br>Stalks through the Forum's fallen fanes,<br>Or, changed of mien and healed of scars,<br>Threads sylvan slopes and vineyard plains.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">With waves of song from wakening lyre<br>Apollo routs the wavering night,<br>While, parsley-crowned, the white-robed choir<br>Wind chanting up the Sacred Height,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where Jove, with thunder-garlands wreathed,<br>And crisp locks frayed like fretted foam,<br>Sits with his lightnings half unsheathed,<br>And frowns against the foes of Rome.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You cannot kill the Gods. They still<br>Reclaim the thrones where once they reigned,<br>Rehaunt the grove, remount the rill,<br>And renovate their rites profaned.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Diana's hounds still lead the chase,<br>Still Neptune's Trident crests the sea,<br>And still man's spirit soars through space<br>On feathered heels of Mercury.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No flood can quench the Vestals' Fire;<br>The Flamen's robes are still as white<br>As ere the Salii's armoured choir<br>Were drowned by droning anchorite.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The saint may seize the siren's seat,<br>The shaveling frown where frisked the Faun;<br>Ne'er will, though all beside should fleet,<br>The Olympian Presence be withdrawn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Here, even in the noontide glare,<br>The Gods, recumbent, take their ease;<br>Go look, and you will find them there,<br>Slumbering behind some fallen frieze.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But most, when sunset glow hath paled,<br>And come, as now, the twilight hour,<br>In vesper vagueness dimly veiled<br>I feel their presence and their power.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What though their temples strew the ground,<br>And to the ruin owls repair,<br>Their home, their haunt, is all around;<br>They drive the cloud, they ride the air.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And, when the planets wend their way<br>Along the never-ageing skies,<br>``Revere the Gods'' I hear them say;<br>``The Gods are old, the Gods are wise.''</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Build as man may, Time gnaws and peers<br>Through marble fissures, granite rents;<br>Only Imagination rears<br>Imperishable monuments.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let Gaul and Goth pollute the shrine,<br>Level the altar, fire the fane:<br>There is no razing the Divine;<br>The Gods return, the Gods remain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Alfred+Austin">Alfred Austin</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341401" data-title="In The Forum de Alfred Austin" data-description="The last warm gleams of sunset fade
From cypress spire and stonepine dome,
And, in the twilight's deepening shade,
Lingering, I scan the wrecks of Rome.

Husht the Madonna's Evening Bell;
The steers lie loosed from wain and plough;
The vagrant mon..."></div>
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