When Syracuse met Roman foes,
Above her proudest be arose;

He called from heaven the Lord of Light
To lend him his all-piercing might.

The patriot's pious prayer was heard,
And vaunting navies disappeared;

Through clouds of smoke sparks widely flew,
And hissing rafts the shore bestrew;
Some on Punic sands were cast,
And Carthage was avenged at last.
Alas! how fallen art thou since,
O Syracuse! how many a prince
Of Gallia's party-colored brood

Have crept o'er thee to suck thy blood!
Syracuse! raise again thy head,

Long hast thou slept, but art not dead.
A late avenger now is come

Whose voice alone can split the tomb.
Hearest thou not the world throughout
Cry Garibaldi? One loud shout
Arises, and there needs but one

To shatter a polluted throne.

Walter Savage Landor.

A

Taranto (Tarentum).

TARENTUM.

ND next Tarentum's bay,

Named, if report be true, from Hercules, Is seen; and opposite lifts up her head

The goddess of Lacinia; and the heights.
Appear of Caulon, and the dangerous rocks
Of Sylaceum. Then far off we see
Trinacrian Ætna rising from the waves;
And now we hear the ocean's awful roar,
The breakers dashing on the rocks, the moan
Of broken voices on the shore. The deeps
Leap up, and sand is mixed with boiling foam.
"Charybdis!" cries Anchises; "lo, the cliffs,
The dreadful rocks that Helenus foretold!

Save us,
- bear off, my men! With equal stroke
Bend on your oars!" No sooner said than done.
With groaning rudder Palinurus turns

The prow to the left, and the whole cohort strain
With oar and sail, and seek a southern course.
The curving wave one moment lifts us up
Skyward, then sinks us down as in the shades
Of death. Three times amid their hollow caves
The cliffs resound; three times we saw the foam
Dashed, that the stars hung dripping wet with dew.
Meanwhile, abandoned by the wind and sun,

Weary, and ignorant of our course, we are thrown
Upon the Cyclops' shore.

Virgil. Tr. C. P. Cranch.

THE

Terni.

THE FALLS OF TERNI.

HE roar of waters! - from the headlong height
Velino cleaves the wave-worn precipice:

The fall of waters! rapid as the light

The flashing mass foams shaking the abyss: The hell of waters! where they howl and hiss, And boil in endless torture; while the sweat Of their great agony, wrung out from this Their Phlegethon, curls round the rocks of jet That gird the gulf around, in pitiless horror set.

And mounts in spray the skies, and thence again
Returns in an unceasing shower, which round,
With its unemptied cloud of gentle rain,
Is an eternal April to the ground,

Making it all one emerald. How profound

The gulf! and how the giant element

From rock to rock leaps with delirious bound,

Crushing the cliffs, which downward, worn and rent With his fierce footsteps, yield in chasms a fearful vent

To the broad column which rolls on, and shows
More like the fountain of an infant sea
Torn from the womb of mountains by the throes
Of a new world, than only thus to be
Parent of rivers, which flow gushingly,

With many windings through the vale; - look back! Lo! where it comes like an eternity,

As if to sweep down all things in its track, Charming the eye with dread, -a matchless cataract,

Horribly beautiful! but on the verge,

From side to side, beneath the glittering morn,

An Iris sits, amidst the infernal surge,
Like Hope upon a death-bed, and, unworn
Its steady dyes, while all around is torn
By the distracted waters, bears serene

Its brilliant hues with all their beams unshorn:
Resembling, mid the torture of the scene,
Love watching Madness with unalterable mien.

Lord Byron.

A

THE FALLS OF TERNI.

GORGE cleft through the mountain's mighty
heart:

Volcanic throes within her breast we hear,
Or pent-up winds, or earth's spasmodic start?
No, 't is the cleaving Terni's wild career;
On, where yon clouds like shrouded giants rear
Their shapes in azure distance, while the swell
Of the strife gathering on the startled ear
The sounds of their eternal conflict tell,

Loud as o'er distant storms the thunder's sinking knell.

Lo! hurrying on enwreathed in mist and foam,
His robes caught upward in delirious flight,

Velino rushes from his mountain home,

In beauty and in terror, from yon height

One desperate bound hath hurled him, flashing might And wrath and madness from his skyey throne

Shot like a flying minister of light;

High o'er the whirlpool wreck his crown is shown Forever hovering there in glittering state alone;

A glory haloing his ruin; there

Tortured and writhing in the abyss he lies, Yet on his shivered forehead he doth bear The flickering hues and light of his lost skies; Behold in eddying wreaths how o'er him rise The smoke, the reek, the steam of his wild breath, And the gleam flashed forth from his arrowy eyes, How lend they darkening 'gainst the mountain heath, A horror to the scene, that war of life and death! John Edmund Reade.

Thrasimene, the Lake.

THRASIMENE.

I ROAM

By Thrasimene's lake, in the defiles
Fatal to Roman rashness, more at home;
For there the Carthaginian's warlike wiles
Come back before me, as his skill beguiles
The host between the mountains and the shore,