III.

In Venice Tasso's echoes are no more,[2.H.] And silent rows the songless Gondolier;[381] Her palaces are crumbling to the shore, And Music meets not always now the ear: Those days are gone--but Beauty still is here. States fall--Arts fade--but Nature doth not die, Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear, The pleasant place of all festivity,[le] The Revel of the earth--the Masque of Italy!