'While stands the Coliseum, Rome shall stand; <br />When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall fall.' <br /> <br />FULL sevenscore years our city's pride-- <br />The comely Southern spire-- <br />Has cast its shadow, and defied <br />The storm, the foe, the fire; <br />Sad is the sight our eyes behold; <br />Woe to the three-hilled town, <br />When through the land the tale is told-- <br />'The brave 'Old South' is down!' <br /> <br />Let darkness blot the starless dawn <br />That hears our children tell, <br />'Here rose the walls, now wrecked and gone, <br />Our fathers loved so well; <br />Here, while his brethren stood aloof, <br />The herald's blast was blown <br />That shook St. Stephen's pillared roof <br />And rocked King George's throne! <br /> <br />'The home-bound wanderer of the main <br />Looked from his deck afar, <br />To where the gilded, glittering vane <br />Shone like the evening star, <br />And pilgrim feet from every clime <br />The floor with reverence trod, <br />Where holy memories made sublime <br />The shrine of Freedom's God!' <br /> <br />The darkened skies, alas! have seen <br />Our monarch tree laid low, <br />And spread in ruins o'er the green, <br />But Nature struck the blow; <br />No scheming thrift its downfall planned, <br />It felt no edge of steel, <br />No soulless hireling raised his hand <br />The deadly stroke to deal. <br /> <br />In bridal garlands, pale and mute, <br />Still pleads the storied tower; <br />These are the blossoms, but the fruit <br />Awaits the golden shower; <br />The spire still greets the morning sun,-- <br />Say, shall it stand or fall? <br />Help, ere the spoiler has begun! <br />Help, each, and God help all!<br /><br />Oliver Wendell Holmes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-appeal-for/
