On Seeing 'The House Of Julia' At Herculaneum
Not great Vesuvius, in all his ire, Nor all the centuries, could hide your shame. There is the little window where you came, With eyes that woke the demon of desire, And lips like rose leaves, fashioned out of fire; And from the lava leaps the molten flame Of your old sins. The walls cry out your name - Your face seems rising from the funeral pyre. There must have dwelt, within your fated town, Full many a virtuous dame, and noble wife Who made your beauty seem as star to sun; How strange the centuries have handed down Your name, fair Julia, of immoral life, And left the others to oblivion.
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"Not great Vesuvius, in all his ire,..."
This evocative piece by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, titled "On Seeing 'The House Of Julia' At Herculaneum", represents a masterful exploration of classic. The lines capture a profound emotional resonance... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...