Nor here, nor thus with tears
Untimely shed, but there whence o’er the sea
The great Volcano looks, his rest might be,
The close of prosperous years. 20
No! Different hearts are bribed;
And therefore, in his cause’s sad eclipse,
Here died he, with ‘Palermo’ on his lips,
A poor man, and proscribed.
Wrecked all thy hopes, O friend,— 25
Hopes for thyself, thine Italy, thine own,—