 | Voices and visions |  |
82
POMPEII
One bland morn, while I stood near that famed bay
Which fronts the world's most tragic ruin of all,
And while, in violet vapour's dimming thrall,
Castellammare and Sorrento lay
Southward beyond the luminous cove, some sway
Of trance, or witchery still more magical,
Seized me and bade, with swiftness to appal,
The live luxurious past my soul dismay.
Which fronts the world's most tragic ruin of all,
And while, in violet vapour's dimming thrall,
Castellammare and Sorrento lay
Southward beyond the luminous cove, some sway
Of trance, or witchery still more magical,
Seized me and bade, with swiftness to appal,
The live luxurious past my soul dismay.
From many a villa's bright floor, flower-bestrewed,
Fountains leaped glittering; temple and street and square
Swarmed with gay Greeks; rich chariots rumbled by;
And in one sweet miraculous glimpse I viewed,
Rebuilt, repeopled, reincarnate there,
The revel of radiance that was Pompeii!
Fountains leaped glittering; temple and street and square
Swarmed with gay Greeks; rich chariots rumbled by;
And in one sweet miraculous glimpse I viewed,
Rebuilt, repeopled, reincarnate there,
The revel of radiance that was Pompeii!
Naples.
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