71. Messina
|
{129}
"Homo sum; humani nil à me alienum puto." |
WHY, wedded to the Lord, still yearns my heart |
| Towards these scenes of ancient heathen
fame? |
| Yet legend hoar, and voice of bard that
came |
| Fixing my restless youth with its sweet art, |
| And shades of power, and those who bore a part |
| In the mad deeds that set the world on
flame, |
| So fret my memory here,—ah! is it blame?— |
| That from my eyes the tear is fain to start. |
| Nay, from no fount impure these drops arise; |
| 'Tis but that sympathy with Adam's race |
| When in each brother's history reads its own. |
| So let the cliffs and seas of this fair place |
| Be named man's tomb and splendid record-stone, |
High hope, pride-stain'd, the course without the
prize. |
Messina.
February 9, 1833. |