 | Fra Cipolla, and other poems |  |
A RUINED VENETIAN SPEAKING OF HIS PICTURES.
------ they were
The gods of my idolatry;—'twas heaven,
When silence reigned in the noon-heated air
That sparkled o'er the quiet city, even
As a lone statue in a Theban cave
Shut from the world without, and the dull throng
Of fools, or those hard spoilers who have riven
Them all away, to hear the rippling wave
Beneath the lattice, with its summer song,
And gaze upon the forms that Titian drew,
And the deep dells that wild Salvator knew;
And bid again the inspiration wake
That woke their being, for the gazer's sake:
There Venus her Adonis did pursue,
And I pursued intent, with glittering eyes,
The fancies that sweet vision bade arise;
But there he lay upon the blood-stained dew
Of the unharboured boar, sad sacrifice—
Oh, soul delighting tales of Grecian story
There were ye all;—and by whom torn away!
The concentrated light of all your glory
Ne'er pierced their dull hearts with one single ray—[OMITTED]
The gods of my idolatry;—'twas heaven,
When silence reigned in the noon-heated air
That sparkled o'er the quiet city, even
As a lone statue in a Theban cave
Shut from the world without, and the dull throng
Of fools, or those hard spoilers who have riven
Them all away, to hear the rippling wave
Beneath the lattice, with its summer song,
And gaze upon the forms that Titian drew,
And the deep dells that wild Salvator knew;
100
That woke their being, for the gazer's sake:
There Venus her Adonis did pursue,
And I pursued intent, with glittering eyes,
The fancies that sweet vision bade arise;
But there he lay upon the blood-stained dew
Of the unharboured boar, sad sacrifice—
Oh, soul delighting tales of Grecian story
There were ye all;—and by whom torn away!
The concentrated light of all your glory
Ne'er pierced their dull hearts with one single ray—[OMITTED]
The beech let faithful Hobbima portray
With branching arms, and bark of silver grey,
And the tall spire at airy distance seen
O'er Flemish meads, their tapering stems between,
But Cuyp shall paint the waters' oozy bride,
The willow pale, by marshy meadow's side,
And dappled herds beneath the shade reclined,
And wild geese high above, far streaming down the wind;
The tawny oakwoods in their summer glow,
See Rubens gird with heaven's unfailing bow,
Light o'er their shaggy foreheads seems to sail
The shade, companion of the showery gale,
And peasants hurry round the loaded wain,
To house the haycocks ere the coming rain.[OMITTED]
With branching arms, and bark of silver grey,
And the tall spire at airy distance seen
O'er Flemish meads, their tapering stems between,
But Cuyp shall paint the waters' oozy bride,
The willow pale, by marshy meadow's side,
And dappled herds beneath the shade reclined,
And wild geese high above, far streaming down the wind;
101
See Rubens gird with heaven's unfailing bow,
Light o'er their shaggy foreheads seems to sail
The shade, companion of the showery gale,
And peasants hurry round the loaded wain,
To house the haycocks ere the coming rain.[OMITTED]
| Fra Cipolla, and other poems | |