Yet 'mid the wreck of cities, and the pride
Of the green valleys and the isles laid low,
The crash of walls, the tumult waste and wide,
O'er sea and land; 'mid all this work of woe,
Vesuvius still, though close its crater-glow,
spares--Heaven wills that it should spare,
The lonely cell where kneels an aged priest in prayer.
Of the green valleys and the isles laid low,
The crash of walls, the tumult waste and wide,
O'er sea and land; 'mid all this work of woe,
Vesuvius still, though close its crater-glow,
spares--Heaven wills that it should spare,
The lonely cell where kneels an aged priest in prayer.
Victor Hugo - Poems
