(A. D. 406)
_My father’s father saw it not,_
_And I, belike, shall never come,_
_To look on that so-holy spot—_
_The very Rome—_
_Crowned by all Time, all Art, all Might,_
_The equal work of Gods and Man—_
_City beneath whose oldest height_
_The Race began,—_
_Soon to send forth again a brood_
_Unshakeable, we pray, that clings,_
_To Rome’s thrice-hammered hardihood—_
_In arduous things._
_Strong heart with triple armour bound,_
_Beat strongly, for thy life-blood runs,_
_Age after Age, the Empire round—_
_In us thy Sons,_
_Who, distant from the Seven Hills,_
_Loving and serving much, require_
_Thee, Thee to guard ’gainst home-born ills,_
_The Imperial Fire!_