XIX

We search the darkness from the villa's height,
Guessing where cupola and dome and spire
Of Florence lie; till eyes begin to tire
'Mid the illusive shadows of the night.

Then suddenly there sparkles into sight
A mighty dome, rimmed round in points of fire,
Its segments outlined as by glowing wire;
And fairy towers follow, fiery bright.

An evanescent city built of stars,
The fair illumination of an hour
Born of the night, and quenched before the dawn;

Like the bright dream on Life's horizon bars
That held us for a moment in its power,
Ere Death's dark curtain over it was drawn.