Chapter 407 of 478 · 66 words · ~1 min read

CX.

Tully was not so eloquent as thou, Thou nameless column[487] with the buried base! What are the laurels of the Cæsar's brow? Crown me with ivy from his dwelling-place. Whose arch or pillar meets me in the face, Titus or Trajan's? No--'tis that of Time: Triumph, arch, pillar, all he doth displace[oi] Scoffing; and apostolic statues[488] climb To crush the imperial urn, whose ashes slept sublime,