XIX.

I can repeople with the past--and of The present there is still for eye and thought, And meditation chastened down, enough; And more, it may be, than I hoped or sought; And of the happiest moments which were wrought Within the web of my existence, some From thee, fair Venice![402] have their colours caught: There are some feelings Time can not benumb,[lx] Nor Torture shake, or mine would now be cold and dumb.