Page:Poetical Remains.pdf/56

24

Or haply, from a lone, dim shrine, 'Mid forests of the Apennine, Whose breezy sounds of cave and dell Pass like a floating anthem-swell, Thy soft eyes o'er the pilgrim's way Shed blessings with their gentle ray.

Or gleaming through a chestnut wood, Perchance thine island-chapel stood, Where from the blue Sicilian sea, The sailor's hymn hath risen to thee, And bless'd thy power to guide, to save. Madonna! watcher of the wave!

Oh! might a voice, a whisper low, Forth from those lips of beauty flow! Couldst thou but speak of all the tears, The conflicts, and the pangs of years, Which, at thy secret shrine reveal'd, Have gush'd from human hearts unseal'd!