3.

And by that past of memories elysian!
Moments of rapture, hours of aching pain;
All melted now in one departed Vision,
Whose faded hues can never bloom again!
By thy own life and all it holds the dearest,
By all thy joys and thoughts, the fondest, nearest,
By that dim future which thou hop'st, yet fearest,
By thy own happiness-Remember me!

4.

Not in that hour when worldly thraldoms vex thee,
When habit chills the manners and the heart;

Not in the marble hall where fashion decks thee:
Where thou dost smile, and play'st so well thy part,
All bosoms, save thine own, thou art deceiving ;-
But when the lights are fled, the triflers leaving,
When all are gone, the pageant-scene bereaving
Of its false splendour, then-Remember me!

Time may

roll on,

5.

and distance intervene us;

My spirit feels them not, absorbed in thine,

Mountains may rise, and Oceans roll between us, They hide not thoughts and feelings which are mine! The flower that throws its breath of fragrance o'er thee, The song, the last sung when I stood before thee, Entering thy heart, shall all its vows restore thee, And gently teach thee to-Remember me !

6.

When through those citron-groves we loved thou

walkest,

'Mid vines that braided like thy tresses grew;

When on the shore with thy own heart thou talkest,

By those deep waters of Italian blue!

When on the west the orange-hues are dying,

When o'er thy cheek the Night's faint airs are sighing, Think 'tis my answering whisper fond replying

Thy

own thoughts' echo, and-Remember me!

7.

And when the Autumn-leaves fall round thee, spreading

Their last, rich hues on that enchanted ground;
When Nature's self her very tears seems shedding
That even in Paradise must change be found;
Think, that while fade her hues the frailest, sweetest;
While thy flowers droop, the loveliest still the fleetest,
While, on each step, decay and change thou meetest,
Love lives unchanged, and then-Remember me!

8.

Then, when the night her starry world uncloses,
Those isles of love where Love in vain would flee;
Ere on the couch that fairy form reposes,

Breathes the last commune with thy God and thee;
Oh, in that silent hour when thou art kneeling,
When those dark eyes are raised to heaven appealing,
Then, let my name upon thy memory stealing,
Rise to thy lips, and thus-Remember me!

XLIV.

A long farewell to Venice! for I see

Another Image of departed Power,

Ravenna! while I, passing, gaze on thee:

Thou who restored'st Rome's Empire for an hour; Shade of a Shadow! yet is thine the dower,

That with a loftier glory thee arrayed ;

Thou hold'st the dust of DANTE! 'neath that tower,

His bones, by Florence begged in vain, are laid : His passionate, last appeal, to her as vainly made.

XLV.

Behold the Pass of Furlo! Earth up-heaved

Yon long black range of mountains, rent asunder:

While through their gorge Metaurus' waters cleaved, Now flashing into light, now buried under

Huge fragments hurled from high: its Voice of thunder

Heard-while on sweeping its resistless way! Yet not alone claims Nature thy mute wonder: Here was the scene of Rome's last wild essay, Or to sink crushed at once, or rise to sovereign sway.

XLVI.

Who knows not Nero? he, whose lyre was strung
To the red fires, and shrieks of burning Rome?
When hath not fame the deeds of monsters sung?
What Light shall now his glorious name relume,
Buried for ages in Oblivion's tomb?

The Conqueror of Asdrubal! whose arm

Here fell, like lightning, stamping Carthage' doom : Who, wresting Victory from her, broke the charm Of him whose name filled Rome with ever-waked alarm.

XLVII.

Here-where the flower of Afric youth were led,

Hemmed in, all powerless or to fight or fly,

Trampled on yon Stream's ridges where they bled, Its waters, as they glided freshly by,

Mocking their raging thirst's last agony !—

No record now remains-save yon grey hill,

Where Asdrubal retreated but to die,

The Soldier's last, stern duty to fulfil;

Ages have rolled away-the cave-the crag are still!