Poem: Italia

Italia! thou art fallen, though with sheen

Of battle-spears thy clamorous armies stride

From the north Alps to the Sicilian tide!

上海龙凤shlf最新地址Ay! fallen, though the nations hail thee Queen

上海龙凤shlf最新地址Because rich gold in every town is seen,

And on thy sapphire-lake in tossing pride

Of wind-filled vans thy myriad galleys ride

Beneath one flag of red and white and green.

O Fair and Strong!  O Strong and Fair in vain!

Look southward where Rome's desecrated town

Lies mourning for her God-anointed King!

Look heaven-ward! shall God allow this thing?

Nay! but some flame-girt Raphael shall come down,

上海龙凤shlf最新地址And smite the Spoiler with the sword of pain.

VENICE.