“Methinks her patient sons before me stand, Where the broad ocean leans against the land, And, sedulous to stop the coming tide, Lift the tall rampire’s artificial pride. Onward, methinks, and diligently slow The firm connected bulwark seems to grow; Spreads its long arms amidst the watery roar. Scoops out an empire and usurps the shore.”

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That part of the Alps in which the Brenta rises. ↩

The reading la mia seems preferable to la mano , and is justified by line 45. ↩