In Memoriam.

Weep, Italy, weep!

For the sun of thy dawning,

Now set in midday:

For the flower of thy morning,

In bloom pass'd away.

On his brow be the laurel,

Fame's smile on his sleep,—

But weep for thy Hero,

Weep, Italy, weep!

Weep, Italy, weep!

For thy great one departed—

The eloquent breath:

For the strong, the high hearted,

Now silent in death.

For the lion-like courage;

The eye of the lynx;

The wisdom that baffled

The Gallican sphinx;

That humbled the pride

Of the priesthood of Rome;

Thy falchion abroad,

And thy buckler at home;

In whose life thou wert first,

And the last on whose lip,—

For thy Patriot—Statesman—

Weep, Italy, weep!

Weep, Italy! weep—

And the loud cannon's rattle

Make mourn for the brave—

For the light of thy battle,

Cold-quench'd in the grave!

For the daring that conquer'd

By Mincio's flood;

That wiped out each slave-stain

In Austrian blood;

That swept the red eagle

From Gaeta's steep,—

For his Country's Avenger

Let Italy weep!

Yes, Italy! weep!

For the arm that has righted

Thy wrongs and thy shame;

For the hand that has lighted

Bright Liberty's flame:

That took from thee—Scorning!

That left thee—Renown!

Thy long scatter'd jewels

Gave back to thy crown,—

That nerved thee to conquer,

That taught thee to keep,

For the man that has saved thee

Weep, Italy, weep!