Page:The Vow of the Peacock.pdf/30

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And from the mast a banner's fold Flung forth its purple and its gold. Now joy in Venice!—she has brought Glad tidings of a battle fought: The last of a victorious war, She brings them triumph from afar. Yet, further on, the dim and dark, On the horizon hangs a bark; A sad, small speck: o'er which a cloud Hangs heavy, like a funeral shroud;

While others marked the ship that came From fields of battle and of fame; And told, with loud acclaim, the while, The conquest proud of Candia's isle. The poet lingered last to mark The progress of that lonely bark.