With many a mingled close
Of wild Æolian sound and mountain-odour keen,
Where the clear Baian ocean
Welters with air-like motion
Within, above, around its bowers of starry green.”
Shelley.
Still is the Syren warbling on thy shore,
Bright city of the waves! Her magic song
Still, with a dreamy sense of ecstasy,
Fills thy soft summer air:—and while my glance