Each winged bark that skims along the sea
Seems gliding like a dream of mystery.
Light of far Grecian days comes glimmering through
This pure crystaline sky of cloudless blue.
Here are the rocks where gold-haired syrens sang;
Here Tasso’s harp in later ages rang.
Over the sacred waves the purple isles
Answer the heavens with their serenest smiles:
Round yonder point, steep Capri with her caves;
Beyond, where the sky kisses the far waves,