Catch me, entangle me, detain me,
And laugh to hear that aught can pain me."—Vol. ii. p. 625.
And the
FAREWELL TO ITALY.
"I leave thee, beauteous Italy; no more
From thy high terraces at even-tide
To look supine into thy depths of sky,
Thy golden moon between the cliff and me,
On thy dark spires of fretted cypresses,
Bordering the channel of the milky-way.