The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 40, Page 444
II.
Vincenzo da Filicaja.
Quando giù dai gran monti bruna bruna, &c.
When from the mountain's brow the gathering shades
Of twilight fall, on one deep thought I dwell;
Day beams o'er other lands, if here she fades,
Nor bids the universe at once farewell.
But thou, I cry, my country!—what a night
Spreads o'er thy glories one dark sleeping pall!
Thy thousand triumphs won by valour's might,
And wisdom's voice—what now remains of all?
And seest thou not the ascending flame of war,
Burst through thy darkness reddening from afar?
Is not thy misery's evidence complete?
But, if endurance can thy fall delay,
Still—still endure, devoted one! and say,
If it be victory thus but to retard defeat?
