Poems | ||
[Ah, those Italian lakes! My town-dull'd eyes]
Ah, those Italian lakes! My town-dull'd eyesWeary to see them, lapp'd in the blue shade
By the deep hush of their still mountains made,
Dark with the purple of their violet skies,
Or crimson-stain'd with all the thousand dyes
That flush their waters when their sunsets fade,
Or purpled with deep nights whose moons are stay'd
To glass them in their deeps till morning rise.
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Como—La Guarda—what sweet sights they bring
To eyes that have not seen them, to their shame!
What calming music to the soul they sing!
Dear friends, their glassy sweetness with you came,
And with you ever to my thoughts will cling.
Poems | ||