Oft through the mazes of the Roman mart
And quaint Trastevere I have strolled alone;
And in St. Peter's miracle of stone,
Have felt the awe of God pervade my heart.

The stately city in its every part
Has to mine eyes its greatest splendor shown.
Its loves, and pains, and sufferings I have known,
Its dizzy Carnival, its peerless Art!

The Vatican recalls delicious days,
And, with the flawless, mellow moon o'erhead,
Through august ruins I have wandered free.
But, oh! I marvel at all, yet dare not praise;
On yonder green Campagna she lies dead,
And what is Rome's magnificence to me?