Of sleep and quiet dews. And hark! the bird of night Florence, June, 1844. WH A THOUGHT AT VENICE. HEN Venice, save in name, shall be no more, If to her former place from the low shore Some English Bard in pilgrim's weeds shall row; Before his mental eye, as in a glass, Or Long files of Doges wedded to the sea, pomp of tournaments, or will there pass The virgin Brides, afloat with minstrelsy? Rather for him will hover o'er the deep Her scenery of Palace, Bridge, and Tower, Peopled with forms in tragic robes that sweep; Jaffier-the Jew-the Merchant-and the Moor. Venice, July, 1844. A SONNET.-AT VENICE. T Venice hourly by the marble quays The steam-ship thrusts aside the gondolas: At Venice the long railway duct divides Well may romantic youths and maidens craze ! Of change. So fares the man who stands at gaze. And with the graces flown of ancient days, For coming triumphs, to be ranked among To melt away all intellectual haze. Venice, July, 1844. ག MILAN CATHEDRAL. E cannot choose but sing, HE This consecrated floor who treads, So in majestic order sweep Unnumbered files of loftiest stems In Indian forests deep: And, as the sunset shoots through forest glades, In rich variety to blend Their hues with tones the breathing organ flings About the whole, in sound's harmonious colourings. And now the winding marble stair In marble without streak or stain, And art exulting in her power and riches, Adds solemn forms, read of in scripture stories, On snow-white pinnacles rise high and higher, Beneath, the guardianed city lies: Beyond, with vine-grown plains between, The Alps, uniting earth and skies, In horizontal sheen Glassing the purity of heaven, |