Among our cousins of the west you came;
But you mistook a momentary fashion
For a deep-seated and enduring passion:
Now to your own a friend’s experience add,
And judge what grounds your glorious vision had.
Beyond that Cape which mortals christen Cod,
Where drifted sand-heaps choke the scanty sod,
Round the rough shore a crooked city clings,
Sworn foe to queens, it seems, as well as kings.
On three steep hills it soars, as Rome on seven,