IT was a black and baneful day In Chivalry's decline When Austria found her devil's-way To break Savoia's line. "Five nights from now," the braggarts say, "In Venice we shall dine." The true world's hope again burned low, And doubt grew pale to see The havoc of the wily blow, And warned of worse to be; But my Italian heart cried "No," And dreamed of victory. And while our very breath was hushed, And few were tearless-eyed To think of all the beauty crushed And all that might betide Across two seas my fancy rushed As lover to his bride. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOVERS HOW THEY COME AND PART by ROBERT HERRICK A SMUGGLER'S SONG by RUDYARD KIPLING WILLIE WINKIE by WILLIAM MILLER THE HAYLOFT by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON ECCLESIASTICAL SONNETS: PART 2: 25. THE VIRGIN by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |