Page:Poems (1853).djvu/46

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34
DAY-DAWN IN ITALY.

DAY-DAWN IN ITALY.


Italia! in thy bleeding heart,
I thought, e’en hope was dead;
That from thy scarred and prostrate form,
The spark of life had fled.

I thought, as Memory’s sunset glow
Its radiance o’er thee cast,
That all thy glory and thy fame
Were buried in the past.

Twice Mistress of the world! I thought
Thy star had set in gloom;
That all thy shrines and monuments
Were but thy spirit’s tomb.

The mausoleum of the world,
Where Art her spoils might keep;
Where pilgrims from all shrines might come,
To wonder and to weep.