 | Poems at Home and Abroad |  |
16
From Orta to Varallo
Over the Colma.
Come! climb to Colma's western height
When Orta's mist at morn ascends,
When vines are filled with golden light
And chestnut shade befriends,
When Orta's mist at morn ascends,
When vines are filled with golden light
And chestnut shade befriends,
And hear a sound, that ever falls
With joy on ears of Cumbrian men,
Pellino's voice of might that calls
From out his woody glen.
With joy on ears of Cumbrian men,
Pellino's voice of might that calls
From out his woody glen.
Knitting with busy hands the while
The women lead their black-woolled sheep;
Men bearing gourds upon us smile
To cheer us up the steep.
The women lead their black-woolled sheep;
Men bearing gourds upon us smile
To cheer us up the steep.
The children bring with liberal hands
Dark grapes warm-hearted from the sun,
Or where the threshers ply their wands,
With chestnut fruitage run.
Dark grapes warm-hearted from the sun,
Or where the threshers ply their wands,
With chestnut fruitage run.
17
We leave tall Arŏla's tower behind,
Its vintage toil, its wayside stream,
By level paths the box has lined,
By golden gourds that gleam.
Its vintage toil, its wayside stream,
By level paths the box has lined,
By golden gourds that gleam.
By ample barns, straw-thatched and warm,
Still up we climb the mountain stair;
Pellino cools us with his charm,
And cowbells fill the air.
Still up we climb the mountain stair;
Pellino cools us with his charm,
And cowbells fill the air.
The height is reached, the ways incline,
Here angels surely love to dwell;
The peasant pauses at the shrine
As if he felt the spell.
Here angels surely love to dwell;
The peasant pauses at the shrine
As if he felt the spell.
A moment stayed for sheer surprise,
Down to another world we leap;
Sad women with their grey-blue eyes
Pass, panniered, up the steep.
Down to another world we leap;
Sad women with their grey-blue eyes
Pass, panniered, up the steep.
Such tinkling music fills the air,
On the green slopes such walnuts stand,
Such chalêts peep, as on we fare,
We dream of Switzerland.
On the green slopes such walnuts stand,
Such chalêts peep, as on we fare,
We dream of Switzerland.
Now Civiasco's street we hail,
With leafage rosy in the sun,
And gaze on that grey gleaming vale
Where Sesia's waters run.
With leafage rosy in the sun,
And gaze on that grey gleaming vale
Where Sesia's waters run.
18
Deep in the woody gorge below
The infant Padus springs to birth;
Though far to Adria's gulf he go
He leaves a sound of mirth.
The infant Padus springs to birth;
Though far to Adria's gulf he go
He leaves a sound of mirth.
And heavy is the peasant's load,
And dark as night the wanderer's care,
Who, listening, cannot leave his load
Upon the mountain stair.
And dark as night the wanderer's care,
Who, listening, cannot leave his load
Upon the mountain stair.
And if the voice can bring no rest
He need but look with backward eyes
To where in gracious woodland drest
Those triple peaks arise.
He need but look with backward eyes
To where in gracious woodland drest
Those triple peaks arise.
Down, down by loop and gyre we went
Along the milk-white rock-hewn way,
With hearts brimful of life's content,
Upon that Autumn day.
Along the milk-white rock-hewn way,
With hearts brimful of life's content,
Upon that Autumn day.
Magnificently, range on range,
The mountains of chameleon hue,
Rose grey against the green, to change
To grey against the blue.
The mountains of chameleon hue,
Rose grey against the green, to change
To grey against the blue.
Strange towery cliffs of rock and wood
Stood up, like giant castles planned
To stem all fierce invaders' flood
And rule a peaceful land.
Stood up, like giant castles planned
To stem all fierce invaders' flood
And rule a peaceful land.
19
The chestnut forest climbed the height,
And in the depth acacia groves
Flashed emerald green, where lost to sight
The double torrent moves.
And in the depth acacia groves
Flashed emerald green, where lost to sight
The double torrent moves.
Then sudden, like a diadem,
White towers above the woodland gleamed,
We saw the new Jerusalem
Old Bernardino dreamed.
White towers above the woodland gleamed,
We saw the new Jerusalem
Old Bernardino dreamed.
Ah! who that knows of Life and Death
And hopes for Life from Death restored,
Would, at such sight not hold his breath
And pray to Christ the Lord!
And hopes for Life from Death restored,
Would, at such sight not hold his breath
And pray to Christ the Lord!
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