“What saw you on the road to Rome? — Legions thronging the fertile plains? Shouting hordes of the country folks With the harvest heaped in their groaning wains? Shepherd piping under the oak? Laurel chaplet and purple cloak? Smokes of the feasting coiled on high? Meadows and fields of the rich, ripe green Lazing under a cobalt sky? Brown little villages sleeping between? What saw you on the road to Rome? “Crimson tracks in the blackened loam, “Skeleton trees and a blasted plain, “A heap of skull...s and a child insane, “Ruin and wreck and the reek of pain “On the wrack of the road to Rome.” Nial, what saw you in Rome? — Purple emperors riding there, Down aisles with walls like marble foam, To the golden trumpet’s mystic flare? Dark-eyed women who bind their hair, As they bind men’s hearts, with a silver comb? Spires that cleave through the crystal air, Arch and altar and amaranth stair? Nial, what saw you in Rome? “Broken shrines in the sobbing gloam, “Bare feet spurning the marble flags, “Towers fallen and walls digged up, “A woman in chains and filthy rags.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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