...of human vanity, with the halo which he flings around the rocks and valleys of the Alps : — ' Oil Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thce, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their shut breasts their petty misery. \\hat are...

...of Rome, and to awake, to find myself its inmate. 6tn. — "Oh, Rome! my country! city of the sonl ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother...misery. What are our woes and sufferance ? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples : Ye ! Whose...

...Rome, and to awake, to find myself its inmate. uth. — « Oh, Rome ! my country ! city of the soul f The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother...misery. What are our woes and sufferance ? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples : Ye ! Whose...

...and meanly sneak behind thy covert. Blair. ROME. O ROME ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphan of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead...misery. What are our woes and sufferance ? come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples, Ye ! Whose...

...calls up in my mind. But to bed — to dream of Rome, and to awake, to find myself its inmate. 6th.—" Oh, Rome! my country! city of the soul! The orphans of the heart must turn tothee, Lone mother of dead empires! and control In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are...

...Awakening without wounding the touch'd heart, Yet fare thee well — upon Soracte's ridge we part. LXXVUI. Oh Rome! my country! city of the soul! The orphans...misery. What are our woes and sufferance? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples, Ye ! Whose...

...Glaucns were torn from his clasp. (Bulwer's Last days of Pompeii.) Oh Rome! my country! city of the souli The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires! and control, In their shut breast their petty misery. What are our woes and sufferance? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl,...

...views it with the eye of a philosopher and the heart of a philanthropist, can refrain from tears P Oh Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must tarn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control , In their shut breasts their petty misery....

...pierce. Awakening without wounding the touch'd heart, Yet fare thee well— upon Soracte's ridge we part shall not sleep ; There are shades which will not...alone ; Thou art wrapt as with a shroud, Thou art suflerance ? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones...

...she had been designated of old; — CHBS CHBIUM — TBMPLUM AEQDJTATIS — PORTOS OMHIDM GB.HTIUM! "Oh Rome! my country! City of the soul! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee. Thou wert the throne and grave of empires; still The font at which the panting mind assuages Her thirst...