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Horror and Mirth. Both vanished in one hour!
But ocean only, when again he claims

His ancient rule, shall wash away their footsteps.

Enter the palace by the marble stairs

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Down which the grizzly head of old FALIER

Rolled from the block. Pass onward through the hall,
Where, among those drawn in their ducal robes,
But one is wanting—where, thrown off in heat,
A brief inscription on the Doge's chair

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Led to another on the wall as brief; "7

And thou wilt track them wilt from rooms of state,
Where kings have feasted, and the festal song
Rung through the fretted roof, cedar and gold,
Step into darkness; and be told, “'T was here.
Trusting, deceived, assembled but to die,
To take a long embrace and part again,

CARRARA 78 and his valiant sons were slain;

He first then they, whose only crime had been
Struggling to save their father."-Through that door
So soon to cry, smiting his brow, "I am lost!"
Was with all courtesy, all honor, shown
The great and noble captain, CARMAGNOLA.79.
That deep descent 80 (thou canst not yet discern
Aught as it is) leads to the dripping vaults

Under the flood, where light and warmth were never!
Leads to a covered bridge, the Bridge of Sighs;

And to that fatal closet at the foot,

Lurking for prey.

But let us to the roof,

And, when thou hast surveyed the sea, the land,
Visit the narrow cells that cluster there,
As in a place of tombs. There burning suns,

Day after day, beat unrelentingly;
Turning all things to dust, and scorching up
The brain, till Reason fled, and the wild yell
And wilder laugh burst out on every side,
Answering each other as in mockery!

Few houses of the size were better filled; Though many came and left it in an hour. "Most nights," so said the good old Nicolo (For three-and-thirty years his uncle kept The water-gate below, but seldom spoke, Though much was on his mind), "most nights arrived The prison-boat, that boat with many oars,

And bore away as to the Lower World,

Disburdening in the Cànal ORFANO,

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That drowning-place, where never net was thrown,
Summer or Winter, death the penalty;

And where a secret, once deposited,

Lay till the waters should give up their dead."

Yet what so gay as VENICE? 2 Every gale Breathed music! and who flocked not, while she reigned, To celebrate her Nuptials with the Sea;

To wear the mask, and mingle in the crowd

With Greek, Armenian, Persian-night and day
(There, and there only, did the hour stand still)
Pursuing through her thousand labyrinths
The enchantress Pleasure; realizing dreams
The earliest, happiest for a tale to catch
Credulous ears, and hold young hearts in chains,
Had only to begin, "There lived in VENICE"

"Who were the six we supped with yesternight?" "Kings, one and all! Thou couldst not but remark The style and manner of the six that served them."

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"Who answered me just now? 84 Who, when I said, 'Tis nine,' turned round and said so solemnly, 'Signor, he died at nine'?"-"'T was the Armenian ; The mask that follows thee, go where thou wilt." "But who moves there, alone among them all?" 85 "The Cyprict. Ministers from distant courts Beset his doors, long ere his rising-hour; His the great secret! Not the golden house Of Nero, nor those fabled in the East,

Rich though they were, so wondrous rich as his!
Two dogs, coal-black, in collars of pure gold,
Walk in his footsteps.- Who but his familiars?
They walk, and cast no shadow in the sun!

"And mark him speaking. They, that listen, stand
As if his tongue dropped honey; yet his glance
None can endure! He looks nor young nor old;
And at a tourney, where I sat and saw,
A very child (full threescore years are gone)
Borne on my father's shoulder through the crowd,
He looked not otherwise. Where'er he stops,
Though short the sojourn, on his chamber-wall,
Mid many a treasure gleaned from many a clime,
His portrait hangs-but none must notice it!
For TITIAN glows in every lineament,
(Where is it not inscribed, The work is his?)
And TITIAN died two hundred years ago."

Such their discourse. Assembling in St. Mark's,

All nations met as on enchanted ground!

What though a strange mysterious power was there

Moving throughout, subtle, invisible,

And universal as the air they breathed;

A power that never slumbered, nor forgave?

All eye, all ear, nowhere and everywhere,
Entering the closet and the sanctuary,

No place of refuge for the Doge himself;

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Most present when least thought of 87— nothing dropt In secret, when the heart was on the lips,

Nothing in feverish sleep, but instantly

Observed and judged a power, that if but named In casual converse, be it where it might,

The speaker lowered at once his eyes, his voice,

And pointed upward as to God in heaven

What though that power was there, he who lived thus Pursuing Pleasure, lived as if it were not.

But let him in the midnight air indulge

A word, a thought against the laws of VENICE,
And in that hour he vanished from the earth!

THE GONDOLA.

Boy, call the Gondola; the sun is set.-
It came, and we embarked; but instantly,
As at the waving of a magic wand,

Though she had stept on board so light of foot,
So light of heart, laughing she knew not why,
Sleep overcame her; on my arm she slept.
From time to time I waked her; but the boat
Rocked her to sleep again. The moon was now
Rising full-orbed, but broken by a cloud.
The wind was hushed, and the sea mirror-like.
A single zephyr, as enamored, played

With her loose tresses, and drew more and more
Her veil across her bosom. Long I lay

Contemplating that face so beautiful,

That rosy mouth, that cheek dimpled with smiles,
That neck but half concealed, whiter than snow.
'T was the sweet slumber of her early age.
I looked and looked, and felt a flush of joy
I would express, but cannot. Oft I wished
Gently-by stealth—to drop asleep myself,
And to incline yet lower that sleep might come;
Oft closed my eyes as in forgetfulness.

'T was all in vain. Love would not let me rest.
But how delightful when at length she waked!
When, her light hair adjusting, and her veil
So rudely scattered, she resumed her place
Beside me; and, as gayly as before,
Sitting unconsciously nearer and nearer,
Poured out her innocent mind!

So, nor long since,

Sung a Venetian; and his lay of love,&

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Dangerous and sweet, charmed VENICE. For myself (Less fortunate, if Love be Happiness),

No curtain drawn, no pulse beating alarm,
I went alone beneath the silent moon;
Thy square, ST. MARK, thy churches, palaces,
Glittering and frost-like, and, as day drew on,
Melting away, an emblem of themselves.

Those porches passed, through which the water-breeze
Plays, though no longer on the noble forms 89
That moved there, sable-vested — and the quay,
Silent, grass-grown "adventurer-like I launched
Into the deep, ere long discovering

Isles such as cluster in the Southern seas,

All verdure. Everywhere, from bush and brake,

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