Translations from Camoens; and Other Poets, with Original Poetry/Venice
Questi palazzi, e queste logge or colte.
THESE marble domes, by wealth and genius graced,
With sculptured forms, bright hues, and Parian stone,
Were once rude cabins midst a lonely waste,
Wild shores of solitude, and isles unknown.
Pure from each vice, 'twas here a venturous train
Fearless in fragile barks explored the sea;
Not theirs a wish to conquer or to reign,
They sought these island-precincts—to be free.
Ne'er in their souls ambition's flame arose,
No dream of avarice broke their calm repose;
Fraud, more than death, abhorred each artless breast:
Oh! now, since Fortune gilds their brightening day,
Let not those virtues languish and decay,
O'erwhelmed by luxury, and by wealth opprest!