There is no remnant, but some splintered morsel,
Which in his cabin, as a talisman
Mournfully hangs the pious gondolier;
The Adrian sea
Will never have a Doge to marry more,—
The meagre favours of a foreign lord
Can hardly lead some score of humble craft
With vilest merchandise into the port
That whilom held the wealth of half a world.
Thy palaces