Memorials Of A Tour In Italy, 1837 - II. - The Pine Of Monte Mario At Rome

I saw far off the dark top of a Pine Look like a cloud—a slender stem the tie That bound it to its native earth—poised high ’Mid evening hues, along the horizon line, Striving in peace each other to outshine. But when I learned the Tree was living there, Saved from the sordid axe by Beaumont’s care, Oh, what a gush of tenderness was mine! The rescued Pine-tree, with its sky so bright And cloud-like beauty, rich in thoughts of home, Death-parted friends, and days too swift in flight, Supplanted the whole majesty of Rome (Then first apparent from the Pincian Height) Crowned with St. Peter’s everlasting dome.