LI.
’Twas not within the city—[294] but in sight
Of the snow-crown’d sierras, freely sweeping,
With many an eagle’s eyrie on the height,
And hunter’s cabin, by the torrent peeping
Far off: and vales between, and vineyards lay,
With sound and gleam of waters on their way,
And chestnut woods, that girt the happy sleeping
In many a peasant home!—the midnight sky
Brought softly that rich world round those who came to die.