From this he drank, his warm lips at the brim;
Thou kissed it as he vanished in the gloom,
That kiss, because of thy true love for him—
Long, long ago when thou wast in thy bloom—
Hath left it ever rosy round the rim!
LLOYD MIFFLIN.
DANTE AT THE ARSENAL AT VENICE
From bridge to bridge thus, speaking other things
Of which my Comedy cares not to sing,
We came along, and held the summit, when