I.

Beautiful Florence! e'en thy very name

Falls on the ear with a strange magic spell,

As though upon the wings of Time there came

A breathing of sweet chances that befell

In days of old, all chronicled by Fame,

Whose faintest whisper makes the bosom swell

With kindred feelings, as a sea-flower waves

Concordant to the tale the ripple laves.

Eidolon; or, The Course of a Soul; and Other Poems · 第 56 / 176 题