Unchanged the altar stands where long ago
Some Speaking Voice, some Bird, had given a sign
To build it on the sloping Palatine,
Far from the roar of Roman life below.
And here with chant and hymn and incense-glow,
With flesh of bulls and pouring of rich wine,
Calvinus hallowed in his turn the shrine
—Of god or goddess, which? He did not know!

Yet mock not his devotion. One who knows
How rare the Vision, human hearts how blind,
Will reverence every spot where Heaven outpours
Its least of glory. Here I lay this rose
Upon thine altar, Roman; for my mind
Touched by thy faith a Power unknown adores.