335 [from Ruines of Rome: by Bellay]
5
Who lists to see, what ever nature, arte,
And heaven could doo, O Rome, thee let him see,
In case thy greatnes he can gesse in harte,
By that which but the picture is of thee.
5 Rome is no more: but if the shade of Rome
May of the bodie yeeld a seeming sight,
It’s like a corse drawne forth out of the tombe
By Magicke skill out of eternall night:
The corpes of Rome in ashes is entombed,
10 And her great spirite rejoyned to the spirite
Of this great masse, is in the same enwombed;
But her brave writings, which her famous merite
In spight of time, out of the dust doth reare,
Doo make her Idole through the world appeare.