35
Our talk grew somewhat serious, as may be
Talk interrupted with such raillery
As mocks itself, because it cannot scorn
The thoughts it would extinguish:  —­’twas forlorn,
Yet pleasing, such as once, so poets tell, 40
The devils held within the dales of Hell
Concerning God, freewill and destiny: 
Of all that earth has been or yet may be,
All that vain men imagine or believe,
Or hope can paint or suffering may achieve, 45
We descanted; and I (for ever still
Is it not wise to make the best of ill?)
Argued against despondency, but pride
Made my companion take the darker side. 
The sense that he was greater than his kind 50
Had struck, methinks, his eagle spirit blind
By gazing on its own exceeding light. 
Meanwhile the sun paused ere it should alight,
Over the horizon of the mountains;—­Oh,
How beautiful is sunset, when the glow 55
Of Heaven descends upon a land like thee,
Thou Paradise of exiles, Italy! 
Thy mountains, seas and vineyards, and the towers
Of cities they encircle!—­it was ours
To stand on thee, beholding it:  and then, 60
Just where we had dismounted, the Count’s men
Were waiting for us with the gondola.—­
As those who pause on some delightful way
Though bent on pleasant pilgrimage, we stood
Looking upon the evening, and the flood 65
Which lay between the city and the shore,
Paved with the image of the sky...the hoar
And aery Alps towards the North appeared
Through mist, an heaven-sustaining bulwark reared
Between the East and West; and half the sky 70
Was roofed with clouds of rich emblazonry
Dark purple at the zenith, which still grew
Down the steep West into a wondrous hue
Brighter than burning gold, even to the rent
Where the swift sun yet paused in his descent 75
Among the many-folded hills:  they were
Those famous Euganean hills, which bear,
As seen from Lido thro’ the harbour piles,
The likeness of a clump of peaked isles—­
And then—­as if the Earth and Sea had been 80
Dissolved into one lake of fire, were seen
Those mountains towering as from waves of flame
Around the vaporous sun, from which there came
The inmost purple spirit of light, and made
Their very peaks transparent.  ‘Ere it fade,’ 85
Said my companion, ’I will show you soon
A better station’—­so, o’er the lagune
We glided; and from that funereal bark
I leaned, and saw the city, and could mark
How from their many isles, in evening’s gleam, 90
Its temples and its palaces did seem
Like fabrics of enchantment piled to Heaven.