University of Virginia Library


279

XXIV. VENICE IN THE EVENING.

Alas! mid all this pomp of the ancient time,
And flush of modern pleasure, dull Decay
O'er the bright pageant breathes her shadow grey:
As on from bridge to bridge I roam and climb
It seems as though some wonder-working chime,
Whose spell that pageant raised and still can sway,
To some far source were ebbing fast away;
As though, by man unheard, with voice sublime
It bade the sea-born Queen of Cities follow
Her Sire into his ocean realm far down—
Beneath my fleet the courts sound vast and hollow;
And more than Evening's darkness seems to frown
On sable barks that, swift yet trackless, fleet
Like dreams o'er dim lagune and water-street.