There is a bell-tower in my brain, that tolls—
And tolls—and tolls,—night-long, no pause, no rest,—
"Eugen', Raimondo, .Salvator', Ernest,
Giovanni, Antonin', Vincenz',"—and rolls,
Peal after peal, peace to departed souls!
Dost hear it, Napoli? hear'st, empty nest
Among the violets on Etna's breast?—
"Eugenio, peace!" thee first death aureoles.
And unknown names, pulsing along my brain,
(Who lives? who dies?) go sounding like a bell,
Sounding forlorn o'er mount, and sea, and plain,—
Now far, now near, crying the long farewell;
Carso,—O sound immitigable of pain!—
Gorizia, Isonzo, San Michel!