University of Virginia Library

THE OLIVES OF TIVOLI.

Grey as the swirl
Of spindrift flying
O'er windblown ice,
Gleam the myriad leaves of the olives,
When, surging from under,
The wind leapeth
And laughs amongst them.
Like the sea when the tides
Are lifting and rippling
The restless wavelets
Wandering shoreward,
When over them breaketh
In a glittering shining
The flood of moonlight,
So are the wind-twisted olives of Tivoli.
Green as the grasses
When Scirocco bloweth
Palely upon them,
The lower leaves:
But soft and white
As the down of an owlet,
Or wan grey feathery plumes of the snow-flakes,
The myriad upper
Shimmering wings
That wave like surf o'er the sea of the olives,
When, surging from under,
Where the plain darkles
In purpling mist,
The wind laughs
As he leapeth among them.