To Zante

Fair isle, that from the fairest of all flowers

⁠Thy gentlest of all gentle names dost take!

How many memories of what radiant hours

⁠ At sight of thee and thine at once awake!

How many scenes of what departed bliss!

⁠ How many thoughts of what entombéd hopes!

How many visions of a maiden that is

⁠ No more—no more upon thy verdant slopes!