Take this rose--upon my bosom I have worn it all the day; Like thy sister's true affection, never can its scent decay: As the pure wave, murm'ring fondly, lingers round some lonely isle, Life-long shall my love enchain thee, Selim, asking but a smile.
Ho! gentlemen of Venice! Ho! soldiers of St. Mark! Pile high your blazing beacon-fire, The night is wild and dark, Behoves us all be wary, Behoves us have a care No traitor spy of Austria Our watch is prowling near.
Time was, would princely Venice No foreign tyrant brook; Time was, before her stately wrath The proudest Kaiser shook; When o'er the Adriatic The Wingéd Lion hurled Destruction on his enemies-- Defiance to the world.
'Twas when the Turkish crescent Contended with the cross, And many a Christian kingdom rued Discomfiture and loss; We taught the turban'd Paynim-- We taught his boastful fleet, Venetian freemen scorned alike Submission or retreat.
Alas, for fair Venezia, When wealth and pomp and pride --The pride of her patrician lords-- Her freedom thrust aside: When o'er the trembling commons The haughty nobles rode, And red with patriotic blood The Adrian waters flowed.
'Twas in the year of mercy Just fourteen fifty two --When Francis Foscari was Doge, A valiant prince and true-- He won for the Republic Ravenna--Brescia bright-- And Crema--aye, and Bergamo Submitted to his might:
Young Giacopo, his darling, --His last and fairest child-- A gallant soldier in the wars, In peace serene and mild-- Woo'd gentle Mariana, Old Contarini's pride, And glad was Venice on that day He claimed her for his bride.
The Bucentaur showed bravely In silks and cloth of gold, And thousands of swift gondolas Were gay with young and old; Where spann'd the Canalazo A boat-bridge wide and strong, Amid three hundred cavaliers The bridegroom rode along.
Three days were joust and tourney, Three days the Plaza bore Such gallant shock of knight and steed Was never dealt before, And thrice ten thousand voices With warm and honest zeal, Loud shouted for the Foscari Who loved the Commonweal.
For this the Secret Council-- The dark and subtle Ten-- Pray God and good San Marco None like may rule again! Because the people honoured Pursued with bitter hate, And foully charged young Giacopo With treason to the state.