Wherein were cast the heroic and the free, The beautiful, the brave, the lords of earth and sea, The commonwealth of kings, the men of Rome! And even since, and now, fair Italy! Thou art the garden of the world, the home Of all Art yields, and Nature can de cree; Even in thy desert, what is like to thee? Thy very weeds are beautiful, thy waste More rich than other climes' fertility; Thy wreck a glory, and thy ruin graced With an immaculate charm which cannot be defaced. The moon is up, and yet it is not night; Sunset divides the sky with her; a sea Of glory streams along the Alpine height Of blue Friuli's mountains; Heaven is free From clouds, but of all colors seems to be, Melted to one vast Iris of the West,Where the Day joins the past Eternity, While, on the other hand, meek Dian's crest Floats through the azure air—an island of the blest! 25 |