Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Italy: Vols. XI–XIII. 1876–79.
The Fountain of Trevi
By Bayard Taylor (1825–1878)T
Its broken cells more proudly far
Than in the noonday’s naked light,
For every rent enshrines a star:
On Cæsar’s hill the royal Lar
Presides within his mansion old:
Decay and Death no longer mar
The moon’s atoning mist of gold.
We sadly, fondly, look our last;
Each trace concealed of spoilage rude
From old or late iconoclast,
Till, Trajan’s whispering forum passed,
We hear the waters, showering bright,
Of Trevi’s ancient fountain, cast
Their woven music on the night.
Benign, above his tilted urn:
Kneel down and drink! the beckoning gods
This last libation will not spurn.
Drink, and the old enchantment learn
That hovers yet o’er Trevi’s foam,—
The promise of a sure return,
Fresh footsteps in the dust of Rome!
Here lived and dreamed shall dawn again;
Albano’s hill, through purple haze,
Again shall crown the Latin plain.
Whatever stains of Time remain,
Left by the years that intervene,
Lo! Trevi’s fount shall toss its rain
To wash the pilgrim’s forehead clean.
She gives to Faith a master-key
To ope the gate of dreams august,
And take from joys in memory
The certainty of joys to be;
And Trevi’s basins shall be bare
Ere we again shall fail to see
Their silver in the Roman air.