The moon is whole, and the night is young
Our lives are tied, like the devil's tongue
Stars won't shine in grieving night
Moonlight will vanish out of lovers sight ...
In Genoa, when the sunset gave
Its last warm purple to the wave,
No sound of war, no voice of fear,
Was heard, announcing danger near:
Though deadliest foes were there, whose hate
But slumber'd till its hour of fate,
Yet calmly, at the twilight's close,
Sunk the wide city to repose.
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