Explore "Jugurtha" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
How cold are thy baths, Apollo! / Cried the African monarch, the splendid, / As down to his death in the hollow / Dark dungeons of Rome he descended, / Uncrowned, unthroned, unattended; / How cold are thy baths, Apollo!
How cold are thy baths, Apollo! / Cried the Poet, unknown, unbefriended, / As the vision, that lured him to follow, / With the mist and the darkness blended, / And the dream of his life was ended; / How cold are thy baths, Apollo!