Italy from the Alps to Mount Etna . r towards the dust. Yes; all is dead! Andthe sorrowing Spirit of Legend nods a grim affirmative with her veiled head! But the bright summer sun shines calmly over all this. The flowers rejoice, and thewhite butterflies flutter gaily above them. Nature is beautiful, and heeds not our regrets ;she sends her Spring-time, and strews the graves with odorous roses, with violet andmyrtle. Thou smilst on ruin and despair,Great, eternal Nature, fairAs at the first creation !Thy calm eyes see everywhereOnly renovation. Whether to the troubled breastThy smile bringeth
Italy from the Alps to Mount Etna . r towards the dust. Yes; all is dead! Andthe sorrowing Spirit of Legend nods a grim affirmative with her veiled head! But the bright summer sun shines calmly over all this. The flowers rejoice, and thewhite butterflies flutter gaily above them. Nature is beautiful, and heeds not our regrets ;she sends her Spring-time, and strews the graves with odorous roses, with violet andmyrtle. Thou smilst on ruin and despair,Great, eternal Nature, fairAs at the first creation !Thy calm eyes see everywhereOnly renovation. Whether to the troubled breastThy smile bringeth pain or rest,That thou hcedest , in changeless beauty drest,Smilst serenely ever.—H. Lincg. Yes; fair is the sunshine, the sky, the atmosphere, of Rome ! They refresh theheart and elevate the mind, transporting it far beyond these crumbling ruins, into thecontemplation of the mighty Spirit of the universe. Rome is a great poem, of whichwe possess only the broken tablets and half-burned parchments in the ruins amid which. LIBRARYOF THE UNIVERSITY : ILLINOIS ROME. 229 we tread on the Palatine. But we build up a whole world of thought out of these frag-ments, and rejoice in the depths of our soul when the mighty spirit of the past is revealedto us even though but in a transient glimpse. The hand of a god seems to touch ourbrow, and consecrate us to live in Eternity, and to retrace the course of long centuries inhours of wrapt and delicious contemplation. And this god dwells only in Rome. Feelhim, acknowledge him, open thy heart to his influence, and thou shalt return to thy coldnorthern clime, changed and elevated, and initiated into the worship of the EternallyBeautiful! The Palatine Hill is, more perhaps than any other spot in Rome, rich in historiccharm, and is a delightful place in which to while away the silent hours of a summer mid-day. We descend from the Auguratorium to the edge of the steeply-sloping hill, allovergrown with rich southern vegetation. We see the
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