 | The complete poems of S. Weir Mitchell |  |
THE DECAY OF VENICE
The glowing pageant of my story lies,A shaft of light, across the stormy years,
When, 'mid the agony of blood and tears,
Or pope or kaiser won the mournful prize,
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The step of doom, and trembling to my fall,
Remorseful knew that I had seen unstirred
Proud Freedom's death, the tyrant's festival;
Whilst that Italia which was yet to be,
And is, and shall be, sat, a virgin pure,
High over Umbria on the mountain slopes,
And saw the failing fires of liberty
Fade on the chosen shrine she deemed secure,
When died for many a year man's noblest hopes.
Venice, June 1891.
| The complete poems of S. Weir Mitchell | |