CXLII.

But here, where Murder breathed her bloody steam;-- And here, where buzzing nations choked the ways, And roared or murmured like a mountain stream Dashing or winding as its torrent strays; Here, where the Roman million's blame or praise Was Death or Life--the playthings of a crowd--[ox][30.H.] My voice sounds much--and fall the stars' faint rays[oy] On the arena void--seats crushed--walls bowed-- And galleries, where my steps seem echoes strangely loud.