~Samuel Rogers

I am in Rome! Oft as the morning-ray
Visits these eyes, walking at once I cry,

Whence this excess of joy? What has befallen me?
And from within a thrilling voice replies,
Thou art in Rome! A thousand busy thoughts
Rush on my mind, a thousand images;
And I spring up as girt to run a race!
   Thou art in Rome! the City that so long
Reigned absolute, the mistress of the world;
The mighty vision that the prophets saw,
And trembled; that from nothing, from the least,
The lowliest village (What but here and there
A reed-roofed cabin by a river-side?)
Grew into every thing, and, year by year,
Patiently, fearlessly, working her way
O'er brook and field, o'er continent and sea,
Not like the merchant with his merchandise,
Or traveller with staff and scrip exploring,
But hand to hand and foot to foot, thro' hosts,
Thro' nations numberless in battle-array,
Each behind each, each, when the other fell,
Up and in arms, at length subdued them all.
  Thou art in Rome!



Italy (Honeymoon)
June 2006

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Lake Como



Cinque Terre






The Route


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