the marriage of the adriatic.
45
More! yes! far more! On virtue's shrine
Alone, our hearts their homage lay.
The shrine, the homage, Scott, are thine:
Fame's purest meed to thee we pay.
Alone, our hearts their homage lay.
The shrine, the homage, Scott, are thine:
Fame's purest meed to thee we pay.
THE MARRIAGE OF THE ADRIATIC.
At the time when Venice was at the height of her glory, a ceremony was annually performed by the Doge of that Republic, called the Marriage of the Adriatic. It was celebrated for many years, but, like the glory of the Republic, it has long since passed away.
Morn—and the island city lies
Proudly beneath her glorious sky:
Around, her towers in grandeur rise;
How brightly shines her sun on high!
See, here the conquered banners wave
Above San Marco's ancient walls,
And there the rippling waters lave
Each proud palazzo's regal halls.
Proudly beneath her glorious sky:
Around, her towers in grandeur rise;
How brightly shines her sun on high!
See, here the conquered banners wave
Above San Marco's ancient walls,
And there the rippling waters lave
Each proud palazzo's regal halls.
And noiseless all. No sound of care
Breaks in upon this soft repose;
But Nature, calm, and bright, and fair,
Around her robe of silence throws.
Hark! hark! a proud, triumphal peal
Is ringing from each lofty tower;
Breaks in upon this soft repose;
But Nature, calm, and bright, and fair,
Around her robe of silence throws.
Hark! hark! a proud, triumphal peal
Is ringing from each lofty tower;
