...will, But the scent of the roses will hang round it still. T. MOORE. LXXXV. — THE RUINS OF ROME. O, ROME ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans...— A world is at our feet, as fragile as our clay. The Ni'o-bc of nations ! there she stands Childless and crownless in her voiceless woe; An empty urn...

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...the scent of the roses will hang round it still. T. MOOllE. LXXXV. — THE RUINS OF ROME. 0, HOME ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the...— A world is at our feet, as fragile as our clay. The Ni'o-be of nations ! there she stands Childless and crownless in her voiceless woo ; An empty urn...

...his blood. Shall he expire, And unavenged? Arise ! ye Goths, and glut your ire !— BYRON. ROME. Oh Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans...sufferance ''. Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and olod your way O'er steps 01 broken thrones and temples, ye Whose agonies are evils of a day ! — A...

...Lone mother of dead empires ! and control, In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are your woes and sufferance ? Come and see The cypress, hear...— A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. 17* Tho Niobe of nations ! there she stands, Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe; , An empty...

...Awakening without wounding the touch'd heart, Yet fare thee well — upon Soracte's ridge we part. Lxxvm. O Rome ! my country! city of the soul! The orphans of...— A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. LXXIX. The Nlobe of nations! there she stands, Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe ; An empty...

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...the heart mast turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their shut breasts, thoir petty misery. What are our woes and. sufferance? —...— A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. " The Niobe of nations ! there she stands, Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe ; An empty...

...citizens with terror dumb, Or whispering, with white lips — " The foe ! They come ! they 275. ROME. Oh Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans...— A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. The Niobe of nations ! there she stands, Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe ; An empty urn...

...of Parthia,t their fitting tomb ! LESSON LXXV. A fcAMENTATION OVER THE RUINS OF HOME. — BYBOB 1. O Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans...— A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. * Tem'ple, the celebrated Jewish temple at Jerusalem, in which the Jews held their religious services....