Giuseppe Mazzini
A MARBLE giant, high o'er the sea that cowers
'Neath her bare cliffs, stands Genoa proud and fair:
Even thus, unmoved by days of dark despair,
Grand o'er the restless century he towers.
From cliffs, whence young Columbus used to stare
Across the waves to a new land, with powers
Of vision as keen, he saw a time that dowers
With Freedom the third Italy:—he, the heir
Of Gracchus' lion-heart and Dante's mind,
His eyes fixed on that goal, moved onward through
A graveyard, with a nation dead behind.
Exiled for long, long years, his face, that knew
No smile, he lifts to Heaven severe yet kind,
Musing: ‘Thou only, O Ideal, art true.’
'Neath her bare cliffs, stands Genoa proud and fair:
Even thus, unmoved by days of dark despair,
Grand o'er the restless century he towers.
From cliffs, whence young Columbus used to stare
Across the waves to a new land, with powers
Of vision as keen, he saw a time that dowers
With Freedom the third Italy:—he, the heir
Of Gracchus' lion-heart and Dante's mind,
His eyes fixed on that goal, moved onward through
A graveyard, with a nation dead behind.
Exiled for long, long years, his face, that knew
No smile, he lifts to Heaven severe yet kind,
Musing: ‘Thou only, O Ideal, art true.’
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