| |
(From Ruins of Many Lands)
AND this was proud Geraza, where the Jew, | |
| Once lord of Gilead, only slavery knew; | |
| Where Roman victors passed a life of ease, | |
| Mid all that mind could charm, or sense could please: | |
| They melted from the scene,—the Moslems came, | 5 |
| Pillaged the palace, wrapped the shrines in flame, | |
| And searched the dead, and broke the coffin-lid, | |
| Lured by the wealth which Jew or Christian hid. | |
| They in their turn departed; long, long years | |
| Have done their worst,—Geraza still appears, | 10 |
| Queen-like and sad, on ruin gazing down, | |
| No foe but Time, no subjects and no crown, | |
| Her only guest Oblivion’s shade, who keeps | |
| Watch o’er the scene, while Rome’s pale genius weeps. | |
| |
| Behold this Arch of Triumph!—reared to whom? | 15 |
| No line declares,—’t is lonely as a tomb; | |
| Yet here the monarch passed, or man of war, | |
| While shouts rang round, and laurels decked his car; | |
| We walk beneath,—Geraza rises near, | |
| Not harsh the scene, not gloomy or severe, | 20 |
| But grandly beautiful, and softly mild,— | |
| Another Tadmor mourns upon the wild. | |
| The broken statue, column worn and rent, | |
| The tottering tower, the grass-grown monument, | |
| Are mixed with fairer objects,—classic shrines, | 25 |
| Round which the row of rich-carved pillars shines, | |
| And lengthened colonnades, like vistas seen | |
| Narrowing to shadowy points in forests green. | |
| Here spreads the huge Naumachia, where of old | |
| Ships struck, in mimic fight, their beaks of gold; | 30 |
| That marble lake is dry, and flowerets fair, | |
| And many a fragrant shrub, are blooming there. | |
| The circus still displays its ample bound, | |
| Where glittering chariots ran their dizzy round: | |
| The theatres, all open to the sky, | 35 |
| In size and grace with those of Hellas vie; | |
| The broad deep orchestra, the circling seat, | |
| The vaulted gallery, now the bat’s retreat, | |
| Crushed arch, stage clothed with brambles,—such the scene, | |
| The once fair haunt of Pleasure’s bright-eyed queen. | 40 |
| |
