To a Dead City

City deject, the Queen whom seas obeyed!—
Unhindered now the shark pursues its prey,
And where the giant galleons proudly lay
Nought but some wandering cloud now casts a shade.

Since Drake's fell heretics' rapacious raid
Thy lonely walls have mouldered in decay,
And, like some collar gloomed by pearls of gray,
Show gaping holes by Pointis' cannon made.

Between the burning sky and foamy sea,
Amid the sun's noontide monotony,
Thou dream'st, O Warrior, of thy conquering men;

And in the languorous evenings warm and calm,
Cradling thy glory lost, O City, then
Thou sleep'st to long-drawn rustling of the palm.