Once I to idols knelt before an empty shrine;

   Within my lofty walls a soldier-folk abode;

Now, casting down my altars and their gods malign,

   I am the hand-maid of the one all-gracious God.

Fallen my towers, fallen my many-altared dome,

   Fallen my might names (though lives the Roman name).

Scarce know I what I was; scarce Rome remembers Rome;

   Almost my fall hath robbed me of my ancient fame.

Yet lovelier this lowliness than all my bays;

   Grander my desolation than my glorious throne;

And Peter with the banner of the Cross prevails

   More widely than have royal Ceaser's eagles flown.

The rod that bowed a world, now holdeth hell at bay;

   From thrones I ruled o'er men, from dust I rule o'er souls;

Once, princes of the earth, now of the shades, I sway;

   Once, cities circumscribed my empire, now the poles.

Daniel Luther Lawrence

Index to poems in the collection by Daniel Luther Lawrence