25
CHANT OF CORINNE AT THE CAPITOL.*[1]
Cradle of Letters! Mistress of the World!
Soil of the Sun! Italia! I salute thee!
How oft the human race have worn thy yoke.
The vessels of thine arms, thine arts, thy sky!
Olympus for Ausonia once was left,
And by a God. Of such a land are born
Dreams of the golden time, for there man looks
Too happy to suppose him criminal.
- ↑ For the translation of this Ode, the proprietor of the Standard Novels is indebted to the pen of Miss L. E. Landon.
