Eternal cities are not made by laws of men
yet here where old man Tiber keeps his place
one is shaped by ancient laws.
How long the count of years, a steady thrum,
how long since civil walls were made
in days of wolvish men,
how long since fair Egeria woke the fonts of right,
since every grove was filled with nodding gods!
How unforeseen transfiguration of all things,
by which each thing became a figure and a type!
Could any sibyl's thought foresee these praying hands,
that Aeneas seeking Latium would find the Lateran?