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THE ITALIAN ORGAN-WOMAN.
O Italian organ-woman
With the dark dark eyes,
What quick dreams rise
Within me as I watch thee!
What thoughts of southern skies!
With the dark dark eyes,
What quick dreams rise
Within me as I watch thee!
What thoughts of southern skies!
In a moment, in a gasping
Of the sudden glowing soul,
The blue waves roll
Of the Adriatic, clasping
My feet; I touch the goal
Of the sudden glowing soul,
The blue waves roll
Of the Adriatic, clasping
My feet; I touch the goal
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Of a thousand glowing fancies;
The soft Italian air
Breathes, and the pure dark hair,
Sweet beyond all romances,
Before mine eyes is fair.
The soft Italian air
Breathes, and the pure dark hair,
Sweet beyond all romances,
Before mine eyes is fair.
Oh, wonderful old seasons
Of the wondrous middle age,
Your passionate billows rage
About me—wars and treasons—
A strange unfathomed page.
Of the wondrous middle age,
Your passionate billows rage
About me—wars and treasons—
A strange unfathomed page.
And all because the ringing
Of one swift organ smote
My spirit,—and afloat
It went, and heard sweet singing
In many a gilded boat
Of one swift organ smote
My spirit,—and afloat
It went, and heard sweet singing
In many a gilded boat
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In Italy, diviner
Than is the cold sad land
Wherein our chilled feet stand,
Our harps swept by a minor
Love-breeze, a loveless hand.
Than is the cold sad land
Wherein our chilled feet stand,
Our harps swept by a minor
Love-breeze, a loveless hand.
O Italy, thy tender
And infinite caress
Is worth all stormy stress
That follows, and thy splendour
Makes bitterest death seem less
And infinite caress
Is worth all stormy stress
That follows, and thy splendour
Makes bitterest death seem less
Than one swift dream-emotion:
Oh, not in England now
I linger, but thought's prow
Cuts through the blue clear ocean
Whose waves thy rowers plough.
Oh, not in England now
I linger, but thought's prow
Cuts through the blue clear ocean
Whose waves thy rowers plough.
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And all because thy music,
And thine Italian eyes,
Sent me to bluer skies
O dark-eyed organ-woman
Than these that o'er us rise.
And thine Italian eyes,
Sent me to bluer skies
O dark-eyed organ-woman
Than these that o'er us rise.
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