Now tread with rippling touch Sorrento’s shore,
Now rise and fall Venetian stairway o’er.
IV.
He hears in Roman mouth the Tuscan speech;
Hears Naples chant the light of Syracuse,
Siena’s tongue, in guileless praise let loose,
In its pure utterance ancient glory teach.
And tells the poet to the wondering heart
Old histories of older Latin days;
Of distraught Italy’s sad, stormy ways