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Where he did shelter homeless refugees,

And here, for many days they lived in peace,

Until the country, too, itself must yield,

And valiant men before the foe retreat.

We will not here relate the conflict’s trend,

Sufficient that at last the enemy

Was driven from the land by armies strong,

And as in days of the heroic song,

With plunder rich, across the stormy sea,

They to their home-land shores the course did wend.

Deep sadness fell upon Sordino’s heart

For all the sorrow of his countrymen,

For all the ravages wrought by the foe,

But most of all his cup seemed overflow

With grief beyond the measure of our ken,

Because he from his chimes did have to part.

He restless grew, no place found him content,

No pleasure could his spirit satisfy,

His former love of study him forsook,

And e’en on nature he did cease to look

With that true, heartfelt joy of years gone by,—

His days in gloom and ennui were spent.

At last he in his heart resolved to go

Upon a journey—he knew hardly where—