 | Poems by Elizabeth Akers (Florence Percy) |  |
136
BELLA.
Where the Northern pine-trees sing,
And the crystal torrents spring,
In a warm and dainty nest,
Dwells the maid that I love best,—
Born, as is the Alpine rose,
Blooming in the midst of snows.
Yet, so much she seems to me
Like a dream of Italy,—
Beautiful, serene, and calm,
Opulent with bloom and balm,—
That my heart leaps up to greet her,
Vita della mia vita!
And the crystal torrents spring,
In a warm and dainty nest,
Dwells the maid that I love best,—
Born, as is the Alpine rose,
Blooming in the midst of snows.
Yet, so much she seems to me
Like a dream of Italy,—
Beautiful, serene, and calm,
Opulent with bloom and balm,—
That my heart leaps up to greet her,
Vita della mia vita!
Ah, carina! in thine eyes
What miraculous meaning lies!
Ah, what depths of rare romance
Charm me in their eloquent glance,—
Full of wonderful witcheries,
Shadowy, mournful, tender eyes,—
Yet their mellow midnight seems
Softly starred with silver dreams;
Fairest eyes on earth they be,
Marvellous eyes of Italy;—
Eyes which make the hours go fleeter,
Vita della mia vita!
What miraculous meaning lies!
Ah, what depths of rare romance
Charm me in their eloquent glance,—
Full of wonderful witcheries,
Shadowy, mournful, tender eyes,—
Yet their mellow midnight seems
Softly starred with silver dreams;
137
Marvellous eyes of Italy;—
Eyes which make the hours go fleeter,
Vita della mia vita!
Dreaming, oft again I dwell
In the land I love so well,—
Where the fruited vineyards lie
Smiling at the smiling sky,—
And among the graceful shapes
Gathering the clustered grapes,
Eccolo! she parts the vines,
And a golden arrow shines
Tipped with sunlight, in the rare
Purple blackness of her hair,—
How my glad heart springs to meet her,
Vita della mia vita!
In the land I love so well,—
Where the fruited vineyards lie
Smiling at the smiling sky,—
And among the graceful shapes
Gathering the clustered grapes,
Eccolo! she parts the vines,
And a golden arrow shines
Tipped with sunlight, in the rare
Purple blackness of her hair,—
How my glad heart springs to meet her,
Vita della mia vita!
Ah, no lovelier maid, I ween,
Roams by Tiber's mellow sheen,
Or, with lingering footsteps, strays,
Where the fount of Trevi plays,
Or, with heart devoid of ill,
Muses on the Pincian Hill,
Listening to the clear farewells
Of the silvery sunset-bells,
While the roses, one and all,
Nodding from the ivied wall
Blush to find her fair face sweeter,—
Vita della mia vita!
Roams by Tiber's mellow sheen,
Or, with lingering footsteps, strays,
Where the fount of Trevi plays,
Or, with heart devoid of ill,
Muses on the Pincian Hill,
138
Of the silvery sunset-bells,
While the roses, one and all,
Nodding from the ivied wall
Blush to find her fair face sweeter,—
Vita della mia vita!
| Poems by Elizabeth Akers (Florence Percy) | |