Classic Poem

I HAVE seen a vision pure
As is the sea's white foam,
Full of the divine allure
Of beauty in her home.

With Giovan' as I was rowing
By the lilac sea-cliff's breach,
Where the pinkish houses glowing
Cling for foothold, each o'er each,
Came a clangor of bells blowing
O'er the indigo-lipped beach,
From the fishers' low church flowing
Down the brown nets' amber reach.

Now the loud bombs quick-resounding
Vivas to the saint declare!
How the festa is confounding, —
Salvos to the throne of prayer!
From the sea the boys race bounding
To the booming strada there;
Comes the long procession rounding
The marina to the square.

Young girls, virginal and flower-like,
Each a lily in her hand,
Walk before the image tower-like,
Borne abroad to bless the land;
And round about the maidens, bower-like,
Youthful bathers sun-bright stand;
Still the salt wave, shimmering shower-like,
Beads their bodies golden-tanned.

Sweetly walked the maidens singing
White-robed, each a lily bore;
Reverent stood the fair youth ringing
That fair scene by that fair shore.