O love, what hours were thine and mine,
In lands of palm and southern pine;
In lands of palm, of orange-blossom,
Of olive, aloe, and maize and vine.
What Roman strength Turbia showd
In ruin, by the mountain road;
How like a gem, beneath, the city
Of little Monaco, basking, glowd.
How richly down the rocky dell
The torrent vineyard streaming fell
To meet the sun and sunny waters,
That only heaved with a summer swell.
What slender campanili grew
By bays, the peacocks neck in hue;
Where, here and there, on sandy beaches
A milky-belld amaryllis blew.
How young Columbus seemd to rove,
Yet present in his natal grove,
Now watching high on mountain cornice,
And steering, now, from a purple cove,
Now pacing mute by...