Venice

White clouds that rose clouds chase Till the sky laughs round, blue and bare; Sunbeams that quivering waves out--race To sparkle kisses on a marble stair; Indolent water that images Slender--pillared palaces, Or glides in shadow and sun, where, over Walls that leaning crumble red, Milky blossom and fresh leaf hover, Or glitters in endless morning spread, Far and faint for dazzling miles To lonely towers and cypress isles, Where phantom mountains hang on high Along the mist of northern sky: O Love, what idle tale is told That these are glories famed and old? For to--day I know it is all in you, This vision, bathed in magic blue, My sea that girdles me round and round With winding arms in deeps profound, And bears our thoughts like golden sails To be lost where the far verge gleams and pales, My sky that over the mountains brings The stars, and gives us wondrous wings, My dawn that pierces the secret night To the central heart of burning light And thousand--coloured flames and flowers In radiant palaces, domes and towers! A marvel born of sky and sea, 'Tis all in you, that have given it me.