Naples

I think not, when I gaze upon thy bay,
That clasps, as with a lover's arms, the sea
Tripping to kiss the curved shore smilingly,
Naples, of thy charms, though poets say,
"See Naples, and in death then pass away."
I have no eve nor ear but for the glee,
The tide, the bustle, the activity,
Thronging thy streets, as 'twere a festive day.
To me, an exile, I'm - how many a year,
In deathlike India, thou art as the gate
Of life, or morning's advent after night;
As welcome as to Dante wis the light,
When issuing from the realms of woful fate,
He saw the blessed stars once more appear.