Who dared, in haste to tread our Europe's shore,
Insult the sea with bridge, and strange caprice;
And thou shalt see for husbands then no more
The Persian matrons robed in mournful guise,
And dyed with blood the seas of Salamis,
Nor sole example this:
(The ruin of that Eastern king's design),
That tells of victory nigh:
See Marathon, and stern Thermopylae,
Closed by those few, and chieftain leonine,
And thousand deeds that blaze in history.
Then bow in thankfulness both heart and knee
Before his holy shrine,
Who such bright guerdon hath reserved for thee.

Thou shalt see Italy and that honour'd shore,
O song! a land debarr'd and hid from me
By neither flood nor hill!
But love alone, whose power hath virtue still
To witch, though all his wiles be vanity,
Nor Nature to avoid the snare hath skill.
Go, bid thy sisters hush their jealous fears,
For other loves there be
Than that blind boy, who causeth smiles and tears.

MISS * * * (FOSCOLO'S ESSAY).

O thou, in heaven expected, bright and blest,
Spirit! who, from the common frailty free
Of human kind, in human form art drest,
God's handmaid, dutiful and dear to thee
Henceforth the pathway easy lies and plain,
By which, from earth, we bless eternal gain:
Lo! at the wish, to waft thy venturous prore
From the blind world it fain would leave behind
And seek that better shore,
Springs the sweet comfort of the western wind,
Which safe amid this dark and dangerous vale,
Where we our own, the primal sin deplore,
Right on shall guide her, from her old chains freed,
And, without let or fail,
Where havens her best hope, to the true East shall lead.

Haply the suppliant tears of pious men,
Their earnest vows and loving prayers at last
Unto the throne of heavenly grace have past;
Yet, breathed by human helplessness, ah! when
Had purest orison the skill and force
To bend eternal justice from its course?
But He, heaven's bounteous ruler from on high,
On the sad sacred spot, where erst He bled,
Will turn his pitying eye,
And through the spirit of our new Charles spread
Thirst of that vengeance, whose too long delay
From general Europe wakes the bitter sigh;
To his loved spouse such aid will He convey,
That, his dread voice to hear,
Proud Babylon sha