The almond trees of Tuscany in flower,
Narcissus and the tulip growing wild;
White oxen; and like a lily undefiled,
Beyond the misty plain, the marble tower;
The roses and the corn upon the hill,
The Judas-tree against the solid blue;
The fire-flies, and the downy owl’s too-whoo,
Thy Aziola, Shelley, plaintive still.
The lisp of Baiæ’s phosphorescent foam;
And Venice like a bubble made of dew,
A shell transfigured with the rainbow’s hue;
The Appian Way beneath a sullen sky,
(The shepherd’s pipe is like a seagull’s cry)
And in a silver rift, eternal Rome.