To Venice

‘Questi palazzi, e queste logge or colte.’

These marble domes, by wealth and genius graced, With sculptured forms, bright hues, and Parian stone, Were once rude cabins ’midst a lonely waste, Wild shores of solitude, and isles unknown. Pure from each vice, ’twas here a venturous train Fearless in fragile barks explored the sea; Not theirs a wish to conquer or to reign, They sought these island-precincts—to be free.

Ne’er in their souls ambition’s flame arose, No dream of avarice broke their calm repose; Fraud, more than death, abhorred each artless breast; Oh! now, since Fortune gilds their brightening day, Let not those virtues languish and decay, O’erwhelmed by luxury, and by wealth opprest!