LIX.

And Santa Croce wants their mighty dust; Yet for this want more noted, as of yore The Cæsar's pageant,[441] shorn of Brutus' bust, Did but of Rome's best Son remind her more: Happier Ravenna! on thy hoary shore, Fortress of falling Empire! honoured sleeps[mz] The immortal Exile;--Arqua, too, her store Of tuneful relics proudly claims and keeps, While Florence vainly begs her banished dead and weeps.[442]