USINATO, ARNOLDO, an Italian poet; born near Vicenza in 1817; died at Rome in 1894.

He was educated at the Seminary of Padua, studied law, and received his degree, but gave more attention to poetry than to legal practice. In 1848 he married the Princess Colonna, and after her death he married (in 1856) the poet Erminia Fua, who, though born of Jewish parents, professed Christianity, and took a keen interest in matters pertaining to female education.

She wrote Versi e Fiori (1851); La Famiglia (1876); Scritti Educativi (1880). In 1870 she went to Rome and founded a high school for young ladies. A sumptuous edition of Fusinato's Poesies was published at Venice in 1853. In 1870 he went to Rome as Chief Reviser of the Stenographic Parliamentary Reports. In 1871 appeared at Milan a volume of his Poesie Patriottiche Inedite, which contained, among other pieces, the popular Students of Padua. The poem quoted below has been translated into nearly every European language. In 1849 the Austrians, who had some months before been driven from Venice, returned, and bombarded the city, which having been reduced to famine, and the cholera prevailing, surrendered, raising the white flag over the lagoon bridge by which the railway traveller enters the city. The poet imagines himself in one of the little towns on the nearest mainland.

VENICE IN 1849.

The twilight is deepening, still is the wave;
I sit by the window, mute as by a grave;

Silent, companionless, secret I pine;

Through tears where thou liest I look, Venice mine.

On the clouds brokenly strewn through the west
Lies the last ray of the sun sunk to rest;

And a sad sibilance under the moon
Sighs from the broken heart of the lagoon.

Out of the city a boat draweth near: "You of the gondola! tell us what cheer!" "Bread lacks, the cholera deadlier grows; From the lagoon bridge the white banner blows."

No, no, nevermore on so great woe,
Bright sun of Italy, nevermore glow!
But o'er Venetian hopes shattered so soon,
Moan in thy sorrow forever, lagoon!

Venice, to thee comes at last the last hour;
Martyr illustrious, in thy foe's power;
Bread lacks, the cholera deadlier grows;
From the lagoon bridge the white banner blows.

Not all the battle-flames over thee streaming;
Not all the numberless bolts o'er thee screaming;
Not for these terrors thy free days are dead:
Long live Venice! She's dying for bread!

On thy immortal page sculpture, O Story,
Others' iniquity, Venice's glory;
And three times infamous ever be he
Who triumphed by famine, O Venice, o'er thee.

Long live Venice! Undaunted she fell;
Bravely she fought for her banner and well;
But bread lacks; the cholera deadlier grows;
From the lagoon bridge the white banner blows.

And now be shivered upon the stone here
Till thou be free again, O lyre I bear.
Unto theee, Venice, shall be my last song,
To thee the last kiss and the last tear belong.

Exiled and lonely, from hence I depart,
But Venice forever shall live in my heart;
In my heart's sacred place Venice shall be
As is the face of my first love to me.

But the wind rises, and over the pale
Face of its waters the deep sends a wail;
Breaking, the chords shriek, and the voice dies.
On the lagoon bridge the white banner flies.

– Translation of W. D. HOWELls.