Mark's.
(Among the master-spirits who have commemorated the olden glories of
Venice, but more especially her association with our dramatic
literature, must not be forgotten Lord Byron:
But unto us she hath a spell beyond
Her name in story, and her long array
Of mighty shadows, whose dim forms despond
Above the dogeless city's vanish'd sway;
Our's is a trophy which will not decay
With the Rialto: Shylock and the Moor,
And Pierre cannot be swept away---
The keystones of the arch! though all were o'er,
For us repeopled were the solitary shore.
* * * * *
I lov'd 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, Shakspeare's art
Had stamp'd her image in me, and ever so,
Although I found her thus, we did not part,
Perchance even dearer in her day of woe
Than when she was a boast, a marvel, and a show.
Returning to the "Sketches," we must observe that we beg to differ with
the Editor in merely applying the epithets "coarse and boisterous," to
Otway's play, and pointing to "_coups de Theatre_" as its only merits.
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