Venice

The sylphs and ondines, And the sea-kings and queens, Long ago; long ago, on the waves built a city, As lovely as seems To some bard, in his dreams, The soul of his latest love-ditty. Long ago, long ago,—ah! that was long ago Thick as gems on the chalices Kings keep for treasure, Were the temples and palaces In this city of pleasure; And the night broke out shining With lamps and with festival, O’er the squares, o’er the streets; And the soft sea went, pining With love, through the musical, Musical bridges, and marble retreats Of this city of wonder, where dwelt the ondines, Long ago, and the sylphs, and the sea-kings and queens.

—Ah! that was long ago! But the sylphs and ondines, And the sea-kings and queens Are fled under the waves: And I glide, and I glide Up the glimmering tide Through a city of graves. Here will I bury my heart, Wrapt in the dream it dreamed; One grave more to the many! One grave as silent as any; Sculptured about with art,— For a palace this tomb once seemed. Light lips have laughed there, Bright eyes have beamed. Revel and dance; Lady and lover! Pleasure hath quaffed there: Beauty hath gleamed, Love wooed Romance. Now all is over! And I glide, and I glide Up the glimmering tide, ’Mid forms silently passing, as silent as any, Here, ’mid the waves, In the city of graves, To bury my heart—one grave more to the many!