New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1843-12-01
VOL. ma. no. 2O2.
deeply an unjust criticism that hired Reviewer


Each word Of that wild, bitter prayer,
On which thy spirit fed!
But oh, that injured name is known,
g Far as the birds Of fame have flown
Yet thou hast said Alright,
Thy name is in the water writ
For tears are eoer she'd on it,
Till diIns the aching sight,
BY pilgrims from each distant land,
Who, weeping, round thy grave-stone stand.
The world hath never known
When angels visit it, till greyed
With the cold treatment they received,
Away at length they We flown
Then round our ruined shrnes we mourn,
And pray in vain for their return.
pluckeda flower that was dropping with rain
drops beside the grave, and turned away.
From hence we drove to St. Paolo fuore lie
Mure, (St Pau's without the walls where the
ashes OF Paul arc said to reposc. y few years
since a great part of this church was destroyed
bv fire. Before its destruction it was inferor to
none except st. Peters. 1t is now rebuilding IN
style nearly equal to its former magnihcence.
Some of thc old columns of Paran marble were
saved and now stand in the church. They are
one piece from floor to roof, fued and polished,
and present an extreme richness and softness of
coloring. From this we drove to the far-famed
fountain of Egeria. 1t is grotto in the midst Of
a meadow all overhung with foliage. Within
the side walls are several inches; and at the
extremity, reclining statue, old and mutilated,
c,Il aI tho att oft he RufI 1c a
male statue, and is doubtless that of river God.
Here, $50 runs the fable the mortal and immor-
tai used to sit and discourse Of an earthly pas
sion, and watch the moon and stars sailing
through the nightly heavens. Numa and the
nymph meeting beside this fountain by moon
light and breathing into each others ears Ian
guagc never repeated to mortals, are about all l
remember of Lvy and his hard sentences. l
care not whether the story be true or false. l
agree with Byron
4" Whatsoever thy birth,
Thou wet beautiful thought and softly bodied forth
Above it stands the Temple of Bacchus, and
beyond GROWING hill, dense grove Of olives.
A company of English ladies stood on the green
mound in front of the temple, while groups were
strolng around in the bright meadow gathering
flowers. 1t was scene of beauty. The bright
blue sky, and the exhlrating air and the fra
GRANGE of fields and flowers soon brought my
spirits up le the enjoying point.
The picturesque tomb Of Cecilia Metella in
ruins-the Circus of Romulus--the Catacombs
Of the old city, where martyrs sleep followed in
quick succession. Then the Tomb of the Scipios,
through whose dark, damp and silent chambers
we passed by candle light. Oh how strange over
the empty sacrophagi to read III the moulderlng
stone the name Of Scipio, and the date of burial,
| had stood on the solitary sea shore, where Airl
Janus sleeps, and sighed ever the fallen hero
But here was more familiar-a family scene;
and almost started from the close proximity of
the Past. felt like one who had ventured too
far, and was becoming too familiar with awful
things.
7 is past-grey twilight is over the ancient
city and our carriage is rafting over the ancient
via Flaminia. Hungry and exhausted we retired
to a restaurants huge palace-and in private
room sat down to dinner by ourselves.
Saturday, l0th.-Just returned from Villa
Pamphylia, revived and almost cheerful. For
three days a terrible slrocco has been blowing
that has taken the very life out of me. The first
day grew weak the second, hot and feverlsh
and took to INV bed, and concluded a Roman
fever was my destiny. But this morning the
wind changed to the north, and the dirty sky
looked clear again. A little revived, called
carriage, and drove out to the Villa Pamphylia.
Leaving the driver and his horses under the
shadow of clump Of trees, strolled away from
the magnificent gardens into the open field, and
living down under lofty fr-tree. and looking Oft
towards the mouth of the Tiber and distant Os
tia drank in the fresh air till my blood grew
cool again Those grounds, how extensive and
beautiful they are, with their promenades, and
canals, and waterfalls, and fountains, and flow
ers, and statues
Sunday llth-Just returned from Eespers in
ST. Peters. How love to linger under those
great arches, while the shades of twilight deepen
on the statues and figures around and hear the
Vesper bpmu steal out of the distant chapel, and
float over this wondrous temple.
And that strange Pilgrim-how he arrested my
attention From the far off hills he had wander
ed there for once in his life, to worship. Amazed
a, the magnfccnce around him, he forgot his
rags that contrasted so strkingly with those cost
ly ornaments, and leaned on his pilgrim staf-the
blanket on which he had slept in his pilgrimage,
beneath his ARMAND gazed Ike one in trance,
around him. The lofty nave-the images OF
Prophets and Apostles, that leaned over him-the
dim religions light, and that now dying, now tn.
umphant music, was too much for him, and he