When feud and treason tore her sons apart,
When Dante ate the exile’s bitter bread,
When eagles dark swept down upon the land,
And lilies white, that should all stain withstand,
With deeds unworthy were discolorèd.
While from the Vaudois’ shivering mountain crown
The echoes of their bard-sung wars sweep down.
V.
Singeth the poet of still nearer days
When all the little lands fade one by one,