e the Poet weary of life;
And tears of pity and tears of pain
Ebb and flow in every strain,
As he soothes his heart with singing.
The tide of humanity rolleth on;
And 'mid faces miserly, haggard, and wan,
Between the hypocrite's and the knave's,
The hapless idiot's and the slave's,
Sweet children smile in their nurses' arms,
And clap their hands in innocent glee;
While, unrebuked by the heavenly charms
That beam in the eyes of infancy,
Oaths still blacken the lips of men,
And startle the ears of womanhood!
On either hand
The churches stand,
Forgotten by those who yesterday
Went thronging thither to praise and pray,
And take of the Holy Body and Blood!
Their week-day creed is the law of Might;
Self is their idol, and Gain their right:
Though, now and then,
God sees some faithful disciples still
Breasting the current to do His will.
The little bird on the topmost bough
Merrily pipes to the Poet below,
Asking an answer as gay, I trow!
But he hears the surging waves without,--
The atheist's scoff and the infidel's doubt,
The Pharisee's cant and the sweet saint's prayer,
And the piercing cry for rest from care;
And tears of pity and tears of pain
Ebb and flow in every strain,
As he praises God with singing.
A JOURNEY IN SICILY.
CHAPTER I.
PALERMO.
In the latter part of April, 1856, four travellers, one of whom was the
present writer, left the Vittoria Hotel at Naples, and at two, P.M.,
embarked on board the Calabrese steamer, pledged to leave for Palermo
precisely at that hour. As, however, our faith in the company's
protestations was by no means so implicit as had been our obedience to
their orders, it was with no feeling of surprise that we discovered by
many infallible signs that the hour of departure was yet far off. True,
the funnel sent up its thick cloud; the steward in dirty shirt-sleeves
stood firm in the gangway, energetically demanding from the
baggage-laden traveller the company's voucher for the fare, without
which he may vainly hope to leave the gangway ladder; the decks were
crowded in every part with lumber, live and dead. But all these symptoms
had to be increased many fold in their intensity before we could hope to
get under way; and a single glance at the listless countenances of the
bare-legged, bare-armed, red-capped crowd who adhered like polypi to
the rough foundation-stones of the mole sufficed to show
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