XLVI.

That page is now before me, and on mine _His_ Country's ruin added to the mass Of perished states he mourned in their decline, And I in desolation: all that _was_ Of then destruction _is_; and now, alas! Rome--Rome imperial, bows her to the storm,[423] In the same dust and blackness, and we pass The skeleton of her Titanic form,[424] Wrecks of another world, whose ashes still are warm.