OF our first stay in Italy The memory lasts as long as life; 'Tis like some joyous ecstasy, Of which, though past, our speech is ever rife. A youth ('tis said) the cold north quitted, Meaning one summer to remain; But Rome till old he never quitted, Captive, like Merlin, held by magic chain. Its glorious sun so penetrates, Its art claims faith to such excess, Vision that in the soul creates Th' ideal world which all men's hearts possess. Of our first stay in Italy The memory lasts as long as life; 'Tis like some joyous ecstasy, Of which, though past, our speech is ever rife. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BURY ME IN A FREE LAND by FRANCES ELLEN WATKINS HARPER THE HERITAGE by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL BURNHAM-BEECHES by HENRY LUTTRELL APRIL - AND DYING by ANNE REEVE ALDRICH THE LAST MAN: A DREAM by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES IN DER FREMDE by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES AN ELECTION BALLAD by ROBERT BURNS ON SEEING MISS FONTENELLE IN A FAVOURITE CHARACTER by ROBERT BURNS |