Sonnet Written in Holy Week at Genoa

I WANDERED in Scoglietto's green retreat

The oranges on each o'erhanging spray

Burned as bright lamps of gold to shame the day;

Some startled bird with fluttering wings and fleet

Made snow of all the blossoms, at my feet

Like silver moons the pale narcissi lay:

And the curved waves that streaked the sapphire bay

Laughed i' the sun, and life seemed very sweet.