Continued

As indignation mastered grief, my tongue Spake bitter words; words that did ill agree With those rich stores of Nature’s imagery, And divine Art, that fast to memory clung-- Thy gifts, magnificent Region, ever young In the sun’s eye, and in his sister’s sight How beautiful! how worthy to be sung In strains of rapture, or subdued delight! I feign not; witness that unwelcome shock That followed the first sound of German speech, Caught the far-winding barrier Alps among. In that announcement, greeting seemed to mock Parting; the casual word had power to reach My heart, and filled that heart with conflict strong.

See the Fenwick note to the last sonnet.--ED.

AT BOLOGNA, IN REMEMBRANCE OF THE LATE INSURRECTIONS, 1837

Composed 1837.--Published 1842

This was originally (1842) included in the “Memorials of a Tour in Italy,” but, in 1845, it was transferred, along with the two which follow it, to the “Sonnets dedicated to Liberty and Order.”--ED.