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54 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 crimes 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; Yet she but shares with them a common woe,