Classic Poem

Now —: and with eyes that flashed, as fearing naught,
Stretched forth his hand from Nice her fair-haired son,
And, like a leopard on its prey, his thought
Leapt to achieve that which was to be done.

And always—: with fixed gaze the Genovan caught
The other's hand, austere in glance and tone,
And o'er the battle, which the heroes fought,
The Light of the Eternal Ideal shone.

Above earth's tumult soars the word of Faith
Through air serene with lofty visions, and cries
That Death and Fortune shall be conquered soon.

Now—through the heav'n Staglieno questioneth,
Always—Caprera in mid-sea replies:
Full o'er the Pantheon shines the guardian Moon.