by John Crowe Ransom

John Crowe Ransom

A THENS , a fragile kingdom by the foam,
Assumed the stranger's yoke; but then behold how meek
Those unbred Caesars grew, who spent their fruits of Rome
For ever after, trying to be Greek.

I too shook out my locks like one born royal;
For she dissolved in tears, and said my barbarous name,
And took my oath, she was so piteous and loyal:
Vote the young Caesar triumph, spread his fame!

But oh, I find my captive was not caught.
It was her empty house that fell before my legions;
Of where her soul inhabits I have conquered naught;
It is so far from these my Roman regions!

Last updated October 11, 2022