When Athens' armies fell at Syracuse, And fettered thousands bore the yoke of war, Redemption rose up in the Attic Muse,[399] Her voice their only ransom from afar:[lr] See! as they chant the tragic hymn, the car Of the o'ermastered Victor stops--the reins Fall from his hands--his idle scimitar Starts from its belt--he rends his captive's chains, And bids him thank the Bard for Freedom and his strains.[ls] XVII. Thus, Venice! if no stronger claim were thine, Were all thy proud historic deeds forgot-- Thy choral memory of the Bard divine, Thy love of Tasso, should have cut the knot[lt] Which ties thee to thy tyrants; and thy lot Is shameful to the nations,--most of all, Albion! to thee:[400] the Ocean queen should not Abandon Ocean's children; in the fall Of Venice think of thine, despite thy watery wall.[lu] XVIII. I loved her from my boyhood--she to me Was as a fairy city of the heart, Rising like water-columns from the sea-- Of Joy the sojourn, and of Wealth the mart; And Otway, Radcliffe, Schiller, Shakespeare's art,[lv][401] Had stamped her image in me, and even so, Although I found her thus, we did not part;[lw] Perchance even dearer in her day of woe, Than when she was a boast, a marvel, and a show. XIX. I can repeople with the past--and of The present there is still for eye and thought, And meditation chastened down, enough; And more, it may be, than I hoped or sought; And of the happiest moments which were wrought Within the web of my existence, some From thee, fair Venice![402] have their colours caught: There are some feelings Time can not benumb,[lx] Nor Torture shake, or mine would now be cold and dumb. XX. But from their nature will the Tannen[403] grow[ly] Loftiest on loftiest and least sheltered rocks, Rooted in barrenness, where nought below Of soil supports them 'gainst the Alpine shocks Of eddying storms; yet springs the trunk, and mocks The howling tempest, till its height and frame Are worthy of the mountains from whose blocks Of bleak, gray granite into life it came,[lz] And grew a giant tree;--the Mind may grow the same. XXI. Existence may be borne, and the deep root Of life and sufferance make its firm abode In bare and desolated bosoms: mute[ma] The camel labours with the heaviest load, And the wolf dies in silence--not bestowed In vain should such example be; if they, Things of ignoble or of savage mood, Endure and shrink not, we of nobler clay May temper it to bear,--it is but for a day. XXII.