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Arthur Symons - Rome
Work rating: Low

A high and naked square, a lonely palm; 
Columns thrown down, a high and lonely tower; 
The tawny river, ominously fouled; 
Cypresses in a garden, old with calm; 
Two monks who pass in white, sandalled and cowled 
Empires of glory in a narrow hour 
From sunset into starlight when the sky 
Wakened to death behind St. Peter`s dome: 
That, in an eyelid`s lifting, you and I 
Will see whenever any man says "Rome."
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