The Poetical Works of Samuel Rogers

e eastern gate,
, listening to hear

m the Red Sea coast;

1 that smaller Sea

rse with the Russ y deck receiving

Gulf, gems from Golconde;

ed the light of love,
ssia. Wandering round,
he saw, displayed,

known, he asked and learnt,

vard, drew ere long

ying all below;

of the East, we turn

ere, through many an age,

the silence broke,

ne or Danube rolled;
a castle hangs,

gered at his door,

- there we meet,
n from VENICE;

t and now beheld,

heard, the scout
city-gate

e it comes;
can attract,
of the desert,
might CHARLEMAIN,

his visor up,

gaze awhile, es disclosed

ell might they then

Thus did VENICE rise,

Thus flourish, till the unwelcome tidings came,
That in the TAGUS had arrived a fleet
From INDIA, from the region of the Sun,
Fragrant with spices-that a way was found,
A channel opened, and the golden stream
Turned to enrich another. Then she felt
Her strength departing, yet awhile maintained
Her state, her splendour; till a tempest shook
All things most held in honour among men,
All that the giant with the scythe had spared,
To their foundations, and at once she fell;
She who had stood yet longer than the last
Of the Four Kingdoms-who, as in an Ark,
Had floated down, amid a thousand wrecks,
Uninjured, from the Old World to the New,
From the last glimpse of civilized life-to where
Light shone again, and with the blaze of noon.

Through many an age in the mid-sea she dwelt, From her retreat calmly contemplating

The changes of the Earth, herself unchanged.
Before her passed, as in an awful dream,

The mightiest of the mighty. What are these,
Clothed in their purple? O'er the globe they fling
Their monstrous shadows; and, while yet we speak,
Phantom-like, vanish with a dreadful scream!
What-but the last that styled themselves the Cæsar
And who in long array (look where they come;
Their gestures menacing so far and wide)
Wear the green turban and the heron's plume?
Who-but the Caliphs? followed fast by shapes
As new and strange-Emperor, and King, and Czar,
And Soldan, each, with a gigantic stride,
Trampling on all the flourishing works of peace.
To make his greatness greater, and inscribe

His name in blood-some, men of steel, steel-clad ; Others, nor long, alas! the interval,

In light and gay attire, with brow serene
Wielding Jove's thunder, scattering sulphurous fire
Mingled with darkness; and, among the rest,

Lo, one by one, passing continually,
Those who assume a sway beyond them all;
Men grey with age, each in a triple crown,
And in his tremulous hands grasping the keys
That can alone, as he would signify,
Unlock Heaven's gate.

LUIGI.

HAPPY is he who loves companionship,
And lights on thee, LUIGI. Thee I found,
Playing at MORA on the cabin-roof

With Punchinello.-'Tis a game to strike

Fire from the coldest heart. What then from thine

And, ere the twentieth throw, I had resolved,
Won by thy looks. Thou wert an honest lad;
Wert generous, grateful, not without ambition.
Had it depended on thy will alone,

Thou wouldst have numbered in thy family

At least six Doges and the first in fame.

But that was not to be. In thee I saw

The last, if not the least, of a long line,

Who in their forest, for three hundred years,
Had lived and laboured, cutting, charring wood;
Discovering where they were, to those astray,
By the re-echoing stroke, the crash, the fall,
Or the blue wreath that travelled slowly up

LY.

, men of steel, steel-clad ; e interval,

th brow serene scattering sulphurous fire nd, among the rest, ontinually, beyond them all;

m a triple crown, s grasping the keys ld signify,

panionship, Thee I found, n-roof

me to strike What then from thine?

I had resolved,

rt an honest lad;

ithout ambition.

lone,

in thy family in fame.

e I saw ng line,

ndred years, charring wood;

those astray, sh, the fall, slowly up

ST. MARK'S PLACE.

OVER how many tracts, vast, measureless,

Ages on ages roll, and none appear

Save the wild hunter ranging for his prey;

While on this spot of earth, the work of man,

How much has been transacted! Emperors, Popes,
Warriors, from far and wide, laden with spoil,
Landing, have here performed their several parts,
Then left the stage to others. Not a stone

In the broad pavement, but to him who has
An eye, an ear for the Inanimate World,
Tells of Past Ages.

In that temple-porch
(The brass is gone, the porphyry remains1)
Did BARBAROSSA fling his mantle off,

And, kneeling, on his neck receive the foot

1 They were placed in the floor as memorials. The brass was engraven words addressed by the Pope to the Emperor, "Super aspidem et basilic bulabis," &c. "Thou shalt tread upon the asp and the basilisk: the lion dragon shalt thou trample under foot."

er merriest mood, was in the sky; t chirped, LUIGI, t every turn

ere so gay as thou; only by thy slumbers; ing, noon and night,

to thyself

the listener talking.

LACE

measureless,

ppear

for his prey;
The work of man,
ed! Emperors, Popes,
aden with spoil,
their several parts,
Not a stone

him who has

te World,

mple-porch

y remains")

e off,

The brass was engraven with the uper aspidem et basilicum am

d the basilisk: the lion and the

1 Alexander III. He fled in disguise to Venice, and is said to have p first night on the steps of San Salvatore. The entrance is from the Merce the foot of the Rialto; and it is thus recorded, under his escutcheon, in tablet at the door: "Alexandro III. Pont. Max. pernoctanti."

2 See Geoffrey de Villehardouin, in Script. Byzant. t. xx.

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