Epigraph
This superb successor
Of the earth’s mistress, as thou vainly speakest,
Stands ’midst these ages as, on the wide ocean,
The last spared fragment of a spacious land,
That in some grand and awful ministration
Of mighty nature has engulfed been,
Doth lift aloft its dark and rocky cliffs
O’er the wild waste around, and sadly frowns
In lonely majesty.
I was the daughter of Imperial Rome,
Crowned by her Empress of the mystic east:
Most Holy Wisdom chose me for her home
Sealed me Truth’s regent, and High Beauty’s priest.
Lo! when fate struck with hideous flame and sword,
Far o’er the new world’s life my grace was poured.