LIX.

A glorious remnant of the Gothic pile (While yet the Church was Rome's) stood half apart In a grand Arch, which once screened many an aisle. These last had disappeared--a loss to Art: The first yet frowned superbly o'er the soil, And kindled feelings in the roughest heart, Which mourned the power of Time's or Tempest's march, In gazing on that venerable Arch.[mf]