 | Fra Cipolla, and other poems |  |
84
[The leaf that scarce had burst its bud]
The leaf that scarce had burst its budWhere Hartz' wild mountains rise,
Nor waved in beauty till the flood
Of ancient Elbe had met my eyes,
Now hangs all withered on the spray,
By Vallombrosa's cloister grey;
And mellow autumn once again
Hath tinted hill, and wood, and plain,
From old Ravenna's gloomy pine,
To the chestnut covered Apennine.
Oct. 27th.
| Fra Cipolla, and other poems | |