Xxxi

"Then where, o'er two bright havens, The towers of Corinth frown; Where the gigantic King of Day On his own Rhodes looks down; Where oft Orontes murmurs Beneath the laurel shades; Where Nile reflects the endless length Of dark red colonnades; Where in the still deep water, Sheltered from waves and blasts, Bristles the dusky forest Of Byrsa's thousand masts; Where fur-clad hunters wander Amidst the northern ice; Where through the sand of morning-land The camel bears the spice; Where Atlas flings his shadow Far o'er the western foam, Shall be great fear on all who hear The might name of Rome."