 | Italy and Other Poems |  |
77
THE EMISSARIO OF ALBANO.
Yet once again, Albano! once again
Lead me, delighted, to thy still recess,
Rocks, and bold heights, and woodland wilderness,
And the rich verdure of thy velvet lawn,
Now margining the water with fresh flow'rs,
Now gradually withdrawn
To pastur'd meads with soft acclivities,
Along whose gentle rise
The untir'd step winds on thro' myrtle bow'rs;
Or where the cypress spires, or o'er the glade
The chestnut broadly spreads its pomp of flow'ry braid.
Lead me, delighted, to thy still recess,
Rocks, and bold heights, and woodland wilderness,
And the rich verdure of thy velvet lawn,
Now margining the water with fresh flow'rs,
Now gradually withdrawn
To pastur'd meads with soft acclivities,
Along whose gentle rise
The untir'd step winds on thro' myrtle bow'rs;
Or where the cypress spires, or o'er the glade
The chestnut broadly spreads its pomp of flow'ry braid.
Yet—once again,
On the clear tablet of thy liquid plain,
As on a beauteous picture by the hand
Of Nature brightly touch'd, the scenes expand,
That with the roseate glow
Of day-spring, or when golden suns descend,
Their melting hues along thy water blend.
Bring down the castle from Gandolfo's brow,
To mingle with the wave of woods below,
And wreck of grottos wantonly o'erlaid
With ivy trail, and shrines with weeds o'ergrown,
Where wild flow'rs, on the green-sod altar strown,
Pan's bounteous gifts repaid:
And caverns, where the Nymphs once held resort,
Or stealing forth from the embowering shade,
When ceased the shepherd's reed, made with the moonbeam sport.
On the clear tablet of thy liquid plain,
As on a beauteous picture by the hand
Of Nature brightly touch'd, the scenes expand,
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Of day-spring, or when golden suns descend,
Their melting hues along thy water blend.
Bring down the castle from Gandolfo's brow,
To mingle with the wave of woods below,
And wreck of grottos wantonly o'erlaid
With ivy trail, and shrines with weeds o'ergrown,
Where wild flow'rs, on the green-sod altar strown,
Pan's bounteous gifts repaid:
And caverns, where the Nymphs once held resort,
Or stealing forth from the embowering shade,
When ceased the shepherd's reed, made with the moonbeam sport.
But—nor the castle on Gandolfo's brow,
Nor woods that wave below,
Nor caverns of the Nymphs, nor hues that blend
With day-spring, or when golden suns descend,
Nor Peace, that loves to rest
On thy still lake her halcyon breast,
Now lure, Albano, to thy favourite haunt
My willing foot revisitant.
Nor woods that wave below,
Nor caverns of the Nymphs, nor hues that blend
With day-spring, or when golden suns descend,
Nor Peace, that loves to rest
On thy still lake her halcyon breast,
Now lure, Albano, to thy favourite haunt
My willing foot revisitant.
Fling wide yon gates, and to my sight expose
The flood thy rocks enclose:
Fling wide thy gates, and pour again the gleam
Of day-light, till it dies along the stream,
In gradual darkness lost.
Give me again to hear
The sound most musical to Summer's ear,
The gushing of the waters as they flow'd
Along their rocky road:
And bid again that image tow'r
Which met me, when with heat o'erdone
I lay, and brav'd the searching sun:
Where at the cave's broad entrance stood,
In single majesty, alone,
With deep roots sepulchred in stone,
The ilex, guardian of the flood,
And with gigantic arms outspread
At day's bright noon cool midnight shed.
That image to my sight restore:
And let me hear that voice once more,
Which, echoing thro' the haunted cave,
Spake to the mountain and the wave—
The flood thy rocks enclose:
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Of day-light, till it dies along the stream,
In gradual darkness lost.
Give me again to hear
The sound most musical to Summer's ear,
The gushing of the waters as they flow'd
Along their rocky road:
And bid again that image tow'r
Which met me, when with heat o'erdone
I lay, and brav'd the searching sun:
Where at the cave's broad entrance stood,
In single majesty, alone,
With deep roots sepulchred in stone,
The ilex, guardian of the flood,
And with gigantic arms outspread
At day's bright noon cool midnight shed.
That image to my sight restore:
And let me hear that voice once more,
Which, echoing thro' the haunted cave,
Spake to the mountain and the wave—
“I bade thy rock divide:
“Thro' the dry flint I pour'd th' exuberant tide.
“So hast thou flow'd while ages linger'd by:
“Flow thus to dark futurity!”—
“Thro' the dry flint I pour'd th' exuberant tide.
“So hast thou flow'd while ages linger'd by:
“Flow thus to dark futurity!”—
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That form, that voice was Rome:—Rome, in the hour,
Ere from her helm the eagle yet had hurl'd
The bolt that shook the world:
Rome, cradled infant of herculean pow'r.
Ere from her helm the eagle yet had hurl'd
The bolt that shook the world:
Rome, cradled infant of herculean pow'r.
Was it at bidding of the oracle
That Veii fell?
Rome! bid Albano's flood the secret tell;
Tell why the nations bow'd their head to thee.
'Twas not thy shield, thy javelin, and thy sword,
Thy legion, that now op'd its ranks, now clos'd,
As hostile swarms oppos'd:
The sceptre of thy sov'reignty
Was the insurmountable mind,
That bad thee, as ordain'd to sway the rest,
As one, on whose proud forehead Fate had prest
The seal and signature of majesty;
As one, all resolute to dare its doom,
Unclasp the volume of futurity,
And, tracing in the page of Destiny
That Fame to strenuous toils had summon'd Rome,
Link life's fleet day to ages yet to come,
And Death to immortality.
That Veii fell?
Rome! bid Albano's flood the secret tell;
Tell why the nations bow'd their head to thee.
'Twas not thy shield, thy javelin, and thy sword,
Thy legion, that now op'd its ranks, now clos'd,
As hostile swarms oppos'd:
The sceptre of thy sov'reignty
Was the insurmountable mind,
That bad thee, as ordain'd to sway the rest,
As one, on whose proud forehead Fate had prest
The seal and signature of majesty;
As one, all resolute to dare its doom,
Unclasp the volume of futurity,
And, tracing in the page of Destiny
That Fame to strenuous toils had summon'd Rome,
Link life's fleet day to ages yet to come,
And Death to immortality.
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