Corpus of Electronic Texts Edition
Rome Unvisited (Author: Oscar Wilde)
p.71
I
- 1] THE corn has turned from grey to red,
2] Since first my spirit wandered forth
3] From the drear cities of the north,
4] And to Italia's mountains fled.
- 5] And here I set my face towards home,
6] For all my pilgrimage is done,
7] Although, methinks, yon blood-red sun
8] Marshals the way to Holy Rome.
- 9] O Blessed Lady, who dost hold
10] Upon the seven hills thy reign!
11] O Mother without blot or stain,
12] Crowned with bright crowns of triple gold!
p.72
- 13] O Roma, Roma, at thy feet
14] I lay this barren gift of song!
15] For, ah! the way is steep and long
16] That leads unto thy sacred street.
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II
- 17] And yet what joy it were for me
18] To turn my feet unto the south,
19] And journeying towards the Tiber mouth
20] To kneel again at Fiesole!
- 21] And wandering through the tangled pines
22] That break the gold of Arno's stream,
23] To see the purple mist and gleam
24] Of morning on the Apennines.
- 25] By many a vineyard-hidden home,
26] Orchard and olive-garden grey,
27] Till from the drear Campagna's way
28] The seven hills bear up the dome!
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III
- 29] A PILGRIM from the northern seas
30] What joy for me to seek alone
31] The wondrous Temple, and the throne
32] Of him who holds the awful keys!
- 33] When, bright with purple and with gold,
34] Come priest and holy cardinal,
35] And borne above the heads of all
36] The gentle Shepherd of the Fold.
- 37] O joy to see before I die
38] The only God-anointed king,
39] And hear the silver trumpets ring
40] A triumph as he passes by!
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- 41] Or at the brazen-pillared shrine
42] Holds high the mystic sacrifice,
43] And shows his God to human eyes
44] Beneath the veil of bread and wine.
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IV
- 45] FOR lo, what changes time can bring!
46] The cycles of revolving years
47] May free my heart from all its fears,
48] And teach my lips a song to sing.
- 49] Before yon field of trembling gold
50] Is garnered into dusty sheaves,
51] Or ere the autumn's scarlet leaves
52] Flutter as birds adown the wold,
- 53] I may have run the glorious race,
54] And caught the torch while yet aflame,
55] And called upon the holy name
56] Of Him who now doth hide His face. ARONA