III.
Glory and Empire! once upon these towers
With Freedom—godlike Triad! how ye sate!
The league of mightiest nations, in those hours
When Venice was an envy, might abate,
But did not quench, her spirit—in her fate
All were enwrapp’d: the feasted monarchs knew
And loved their hostess, nor could learn to hate,
Although they humbled—with the kingly few
The many felt, for from all days and climes
She was the voyager’s worship;—even her crimes110
Were of the softer order—born of Love,
She drank no blood, nor fatten’d on the dead,
But gladden’d where her harmless conquests spread;
For these restored the Cross, that from above
Hallow’d her sheltering banners, which incessant
Flew between earth and the unholy Crescent,
Which, if it waned and dwindled, Earth may thank
The city it has clothed in chains, which clank
Now, creaking in the ears of those who owe
The name of Freedom to her glorious struggles;120
Yet she but shares with them a common woe,
