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Engravings by Piranesi - piranesi014
Engravings by Piranesi - piranesi014

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Engravings by Piranesi

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  1. Ron says:

    “Oh, Rome! my Country! City of the Soul!
    ⁠The orphans of the heart must turn to thee,
    ⁠Lone Mother of dead Empires! and control
    ⁠In their shut breasts their petty misery.
    ⁠What are our woes and sufferance? Come and see
    ⁠The cypress—hear the owl—and plod your way
    ⁠O’er steps of broken thrones and temples—Ye!
    ⁠Whose agonies are evils of a day—
    A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay.

    The Niobe of nations! there she stands,
    ⁠Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe;
    ⁠An empty urn within her withered hands,
    ⁠Whose holy dust was scattered long ago;
    ⁠The Scipios’ tomb contains no ashes now;
    ⁠The very sepulchres lie tenantless
    ⁠Of their heroic dwellers: dost thou flow,
    ⁠Old Tiber! through a marble wilderness?
    Rise, with thy yellow waves, and mantle her distress.”

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