FAIR Land! Thee all men greet with joy; how few, Whose souls take pride in freedom, virtue, fame, Part from thee without pity dyed in shame: I could not -- while from Venice we withdrew, Led on till an Alpine strait confined our view Within its depths, and to the shore we came Of Lago Morto, dreary sight and name, Which o'er sad thoughts a sadder colouring threw, Italia! on the surface of thy spirit, (Too aptly emblemed by that torpid lake) Shall a few partial breezes only creep? -- Be its depths quickened; what thou dost inherit Of the world's hopes, dare to fulfil; awake, Mother of Heroes, from thy death-like sleep! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A VALEDICTION: OF MY NAME IN THE WINDOW by JOHN DONNE THE MEDAL; A SATIRE AGAINST SEDITION by JOHN DRYDEN TO CORINTH by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR THE BELLS OF SHANDON by FRANCIS SYLVESTER MAHONY BARS FIGHT, AUGUST 28, 1746 by LUCY TERRY |