Of loyal thoughts and actions free
Toward all divine achievement move,
Ennobled, blest, ensured, by Thee.



CANADA NOT LAST.


AT VENICE
Lo! Venice, gay with color, lights and song,
Calls from St. Mark's with ancient voice and strange:
I am the Witch of Cities! glide along
My silver streets that never wear by change
Of years: forget the years, and pain, and wrong,
And every sorrow reigning men among.
Know I can soothe thee, please and marry thee
To my illusions. Old and siren-strong,
I smile immortal, while the mortals flee
Who whiten on to death in wooing me.


AT FLORENCE
Say, what more fair, by Arno's bridgéd gleam,[A]
Than Florence, viewed from San Miniato's slope
At eventide, when west along the stream,
The last of day reflects a silver hope!--
Lo, all else softened in the twilight beam:--
The city's mass blent in one hazy cream,
The brown Dome midst it, and the Lily tower,