XXIX. STANZAS, COMPOSED IN THE SIMPLON PASS. VALLOMBROSA! I longed in thy shadiest wood When the stillness of evening hath deepened its roar; The beauty of Florence, the grandeur of Rome, Could I leave them unseen, and not yield to regret? With a hope (and no more) for a season to come, Which ne'er may discharge the magnificent debt? Thou fortunate Region! whose Greatness inurned Awoke to new life from its ashes and dust ; Twice-glorified fields! if in sadness I turned From your infinite marvels, the sadness was just. Now, risen ere the light-footed Chamois retires From dew-sprinkled grass to heights guarded with snow, Toward the mists that hang over the land of my Sires, From the climate of myrtles contented I go. My thoughts become bright like yon edging of Pines On the steep's lofty verge: how it blacken'd the air! But, touched from behind by the Sun, it now shines With threads that seem part of his own silver hair. Though the toil of the way with dear Friends we divide, What moment in life is so conscious of love, Of love in the heart made more happy by tears? XXX. ECHO, UPON THE GEMMI. WHAT beast of chase hath broken from the cover? As multitudinous a harmony Of sounds as rang the heights of Latmos over, A solitary Wolf-dog, ranging on Through the bleak concave, wakes this wondrous chime Of aëry voices locked in unison, Faint-far-off-near-deep-solemn and sublime !— So, from the body of one guilty deed, A thousand ghostly fears, and haunting thoughts, proceed! XXXI. PROCESSIONS. SUGGESTED ON A SABBATH MORNING IN THE VALE OF CHAMOUNY. To appease the Gods; or public thanks to yield; Which in her breast Futurity concealed; And that the past might have its true intents The Hebrews thus, carrying in joyful state Thick boughs of palm, and willows from the brook, How, when their course they through the desert took, They lodged in leafy tents and cabins low; Green boughs were borne, while, for the blast that shook Down to the earth the walls of Jericho, Shouts rise, and storms of sound from lifted trumpets blow! And thus, in order, 'mid the sacred grove When universal sea the mountains overflowed. Why speak of Roman Pomps? the haughty claims At length a Spirit more subdued and soft |