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Now the scene shifts to Venice-to a square Glittering with light, all nations masking there, With light reflected on the tremulous tide, Where gondolas in gay confusion glide, Answering the jest, the song on every side;
To Naples next—and at the crowded gate,
And She inspires, whose beauty shines in all;
No, 'tis not here that Solitude is known.
O thou all-eloquent, whose mighty mind
Streams like the day-who, angel-like, hast shed
Now in their turn assisting, they repay The anxious cares of many and many a day; And now by those he loves relieved, restored, His very wants and weaknesses afford A feeling of enjoyment. In his walks, Leaning on them, how oft he stops and talks, While they look up! Their questions, their replies, Fresh as the welling waters, round him rise, Gladdening his spirit: and, his theme the past, How eloquent he is! His thoughts flow fast; And, while his heart (oh can the heart grow old? False are the tales that in the World are told !)