With a new colour as it gasps away,

The last still loveliest, till—'t is gone, and all is gray.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 29.

The Ariosto of the North.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 40.

Italia! O Italia! thou who hast

The fatal gift of beauty.[545:2]

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 42.

Fills

The air around with beauty.