Pan and Luna
Si credere dignum est. Virgil, Georgics, III, 390 Oh, worthy of belief I hold it was, Virgil, your legend in those strange three lines! No question, that adventure came to pass One black night
Rabbi Ben Ezra
Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made: Our times are in His hand Who saith ‘A whole I planned, Youth
The Italian In England
That second time they hunted me From hill to plain, from shore to sea, And Austria, hounding far and wide Her blood-hounds through the countryside, Breathed hot and instant on my trace,- I made
Over the Sea our Galleys Went
Over the sea our galleys went, With cleaving prows in order brave, To a speeding wind and a bounding wave, A gallant armament: Each bark built out of a forest-tree, Left leafy and rough