Nor dimly, tho' the lark was silent yet,

Thy gulf, LA SPEZZIA. Ere the morning-gun,
Ere the first day-streak, we alighted there;
And not a breath, a murmur! Every sail
Slept in the offing. Yet along the shore
Great was the stir; as at the noontide hour,
None unemployed. Where from its native rock
A streamlet, clear and full, ran to the sea,
The maidens knelt and sung as they were wont,
Washing their garments. Where it met the tide,
Sparkling and lost, an ancient pinnace lay
Keel upward, and the faggot blazed, the tar
Fumed from the cauldron; while, beyond the fort,
Whither I wandered, step by step led on,
The fishers dragged their net, the fish within
At every heave fluttering and full of life,

At every heave striking their silver fins

'Gainst the dark meshes.Soon a boatman's shout Re-echoed; and red bonnets on the beach,

Waving, recalled me. We embarked and left
That noble haven, where, when GENOA reigned,
A hundred gallies sheltered-in the day,
When lofty spirits met, and, deck to deck,
DORIA, PISANI fought; that narrow field
Ample enough for glory. On we went,
Ruffling with many an oar the crystalline sea,
On from the rising to the setting sun,

In silence-underneath a mountain-ridge,
Untamed, untameable, reflecting round
The saddest purple; nothing to be seen
Of life or culture, save where, at the foot,
Some village and its church, a scanty line,
Athwart the wave gleamed faintly. Fear of Ill
Narrowed our course, fear of the hurricane,
And that yet greater scourge, the crafty Moor,
Who, like a tiger prowling for his prey,
Springs and is gone, and on the adverse coast,
(Where TRIPOLI and TUNIS and ALGIERS
Forge fetters, and white turbans on the mole
Gather, whene'er the Crescent comes displayed
Over the Cross) his human merchandize
To many a curious, many a cruel eye
Exposes. Ah, how oft where now the sun
Slept on the shore, have ruthless scimitars
Flashed thro' the lattice, and a swarthy crew
Dragged forth, ere long to number them for sale,
Ere long to part them in their agony,

Parent and child! How oft where now we rode
Over the billow, has a wretched son,

Or yet more wretched sire, grown grey in chains,
Laboured, his hands upon the oar, his eyes
Upon the land—the land, that gave him birth;
And, as he gazed, his homestall thro' his tears
Fondly imagined; when a Christian ship

GG

Of war appearing in her bravery,

A voice in anger cried, Use all your strength!'
But when, ah when, do they that can, forbear
To crush the unresisting? Strange, that men,
Creatures so frail, so soon, alas, to die,

Should have the power, the will to make this world
A dismal prison-house, and life itself,

Life in its prime, a burden and a curse

To him who never wronged them? Who that breathes
Would not, when first he heard it, turn away
As from a tale monstrous, incredible?
Surely a sense of our mortality,

A consciousness how soon we shall be gone,
Or, if we linger-but a few short years—
How sure to look upon our brother's grave,
Should of itself incline to pity and love,
And prompt us rather to assist, relieve,
Than aggravate the evils each is heir to.

At length the day departed, and the moon
Rose like another sun, illumining

Waters and woods and cloud-capt promontories,
Glades for a hermit's cell, a lady's bower,
Scenes of Elysium, such as Night alone
Reveals below, nor often-scenes that fled
As at the waving of a wizard's wand,
And left behind them, as their parting gift,
A thousand nameless odours. All was still;

And now the nightingale her song poured forth
In such a torrent of heart-felt delight,

So fast it flowed, her tongue so voluble,

As if she thought her hearers would be gone

Ere half was told. 'Twas where in the north-west,
Still unassailed and unassailable,

Thy pharos, GENOA, first displayed itself,
Burning in stillness on its craggy seat;

That guiding star so oft the only one,
When those now glowing in the azure vault,
Are dark and silent. 'Twas where o'er the sea,
For we were now within a cable's length,
Delicious gardens hung; green galleries,
And marble terraces in many a flight,
And fairy-arches flung from cliff to cliff,
Wildering, enchanting; and, above them all,
A Palace, such as somewhere in the East,
In Zenastan or Araby the blest,

Among its golden groves and fruits of gold,
And fountains scattering rainbows in the sky,
Rose, when ALADDIN rubbed the wondrous lamp;
Such, if not fairer; and, when we shot by,
A scene of revelry, in long array

As with the radiance of a setting sun,

The windows blazing. But we now approached
A City far-renowned; and wonder ceased.

* Genoa.

GENOA.

THIS house was ANDREA DORIA'S. Here he lived;
And here at eve relaxing, when ashore,

Held many a pleasant, many a grave discourse
With them that sought him, walking to and fro
As on his deck. "Tis less in length and breadth
Than many a cabin in a ship of war;
But 'tis of marble, and at once inspires
The reverence due to ancient dignity.

He left it for a better; and 'tis now
A house of trade, the meanest merchandise
Cumbering its floors. Yet, fallen as it is,
'Tis still the noblest dwelling-even in GENOA!
And hadst thou, ANDREA, lived there to the last,
Thou hadst done well; for there is that without,
That in the wall, which monarchs could not give,
Nor thou take with thee, that which says aloud,
It was thy Country's gift to her Deliverer.

"Tis in the heart of GENOA (he who comes, Must come on foot) and in a place of stir; Men on their daily business, early and late,