A noble Lady of the Italian shore

Lovely and young, herself a happy bride,

Commands a verse, and will not be denied,

From me a wandering Englishman; I tore

One sonnet, but invoke the muse once more

To hail these gentle hearts which Love has tied,

In Youth, Birth, Beauty, genially allied

And blest with Virtue's soul, and Fortune's store.

A sweeter language, and a luckier bard

Were worthier of your hopes, Auspicious Pair!

And of the sanctity of Hymen's shrine,

But,—since I cannot but obey the Fair,

To render your new state your true reward,

May your Fate be like Hers, and unlike mine.

Ravenna, July 31, 1819.

[From an autograph MS. in the possession of the Lady Dorchester,

now for the first time printed.]