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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538116" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Old Camp</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There is a cloud before the sun,<br>The wind is hushed and still,<br>And silently the waters run<br>Beneath the sombre hill.<br>The sky is dark in every place,<br>As is the earth below:<br>Methinks it wore the self-same face<br>Two thousand years ago.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>II.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No light is on the ancient wall,<br>No light upon the mound;<br>The very trees, so thick and tall,<br>Cast gloom, not shade, around.<br>So silent is the place and cold,<br>So far from human ken,<br>It hath a look that makes me old,<br>And spectres time again.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>III.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I listen, half in thought to hear<br>The Roman trumpet blow-<br>I search for glint of helm and spear<br>Amidst the forest bough:<br>And armour rings, and voices swell-<br>I hear the legion's tramp,<br>And mark the lonely sentinel<br>Who guards the lonely camp.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>IV.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Methinks I have no other home,<br>No other hearth to find;<br>For nothing save the thought of Rome<br>Is stirring in my mind.<br>And all that I have heard or dreamed,<br>And all I had forgot,<br>Are rising up, as though they seemed<br>The household of the spot.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>V.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And all the names that Romans knew<br>Seem just as known to me,<br>As if I were a Roman too-<br>A Roman born and free:<br>And I could rise at Cæsar's name,<br>As though it were a charm<br>To draw sharp lightning from the tame,<br>And brace the coward's arm.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>VI.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And yet, if yonder sky were blue,<br>And earth were sunny gay,<br>If nature wore the summer hue<br>That decked her yesterday,<br>The mound, the trench, the rampart's space,<br>Would move me nothing more<br>Than many a sweet sequestred place<br>That I have marked before.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>VII.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I could not feel the breezes bring<br>Rich odours from the trees;<br>I could not hear the linnets sing,<br>And think on themes like these.<br>The painted insects as they pass<br>In swift and motley strife,<br>The very lizard in the grass<br>Would scare me back to life.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>VIII.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then is the past so gloomy now<br>That it may never bear<br>The open smile of nature's brow,<br>Or meet the sunny air?<br>I know not that-but joy is power,<br>However short it last;<br>And joy befits the present hour,<br>If sadness fits the past.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Edmondstoune+Aytoun">William Edmondstoune Aytoun</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=538116" data-title="The Old Camp de William Edmondstoune Aytoun" data-description="I.

There is a cloud before the sun,
The wind is hushed and still,
And silently the waters run
Beneath the sombre hill.
The sky is dark in every place,
As is the earth below:
Methinks it wore the self-same face
Two thousand years ago.


II.

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