Nor less delight from Elmo's rock to gaze
On the proud city spread so fair below,
And on that classic sea red with the rays
Of such a sunset as those skies may show.
What awful pleasure, too, at midnight stirred,
When from Vesuvius, like a sudden day,
Shot the wild flames and molten lava poured,
Turning to blood the waters of that bay !
Lifting my languid head, thou bad'st me look
Where blazing rocks in showers were upward driven,
With mighty thunderings from below, that shook
As if the fiends of hell again made war on heaven.
And all one golden winter did we lie
Eocked softly on the breast of Nilus old,
Silent with wonder, as we floated by
Pharaonic glories still left half untold.