Mrs. Felicia D. Hemans

Rome, Rome, thou art no more
As thou hast been!
On thy seven hills of yore
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Rome, Rome, thou art no more
As thou hast been!
On thy seven hills of yore
Thou sat'st a queen.

Is it where the flow'r of the orange blows,
And the fireflies dance thro' the myrtle boughs?

Is it where the flow'r of the orange blows,
And the fireflies dance thro' the myrtle boughs?

There is none,
In all this cold and hollow world, no fount
Of deep, strong, deathless love, read more

There is none,
In all this cold and hollow world, no fount
Of deep, strong, deathless love, save that within
A mother's heart.

Fair land! of chivalry the old domain,
Land of the vine and olive, lovely Spain!
Though not read more

Fair land! of chivalry the old domain,
Land of the vine and olive, lovely Spain!
Though not for thee with classic shores to vie
In charms that fix th' enthusiast's pensive eye;
Yet hast thou scenes of beauty richly fraught
With all that wakes the glow of lofty thought.

Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy!
Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy;
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Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy!
Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy;
Dreams cannot picture a world so fair--
Sorrow and death may not enter there;
Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom,
For beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb,
It is there, it is there, my child!