eve Years followed years, and when, upon the Of his last going from Tweed-side, thought turned, Or by another's sympathy was led, 70 To this bright land, Hope was for him no friend, 74 smile Forced by intent to take from speech its edge, He said, "When I am there, although 'tis fair, "Twill be another Yarrow." Prophecy More than fulfilled, as gay Campania's shores tombs; 80 And more than all, that Eminence which showed Her splendours, seen, not felt, the while he stood A few short steps (painful they were) apart From Tasso's Convent-haven, and retired grave. Peace to their Spirits! why should Poesy 85 Yield to the lure of vain regret, and hover In gloom on wings with confidence outspread To move in sunshine ?-Utter thanks, my Soul! Tempered with awe, and sweetened by compas sion For them who in the shades of sorrow dwell, 90 Appointed by man's common heritage, Art's noblest relics, history's rich bequests, 96 Thanks poured forth 100 For what thus far hath blessed my wanderings, thanks 105 Fervent but humble as the lips can breathe Where gladness seems a duty-let me guard Those seeds of expectation which the fruit Already gathered in this favoured Land Enfolds within its core. The faith be mine, That He who guides and governs all, approves When gratitude, though disciplined to look Beyond these transient spheres, doth wear a crown Of earthly hope put on with trembling hand; 110 Nor is least pleased, we trust, when golden beams, Reflected through the mists of age, from hours Shoot but a little way-'tis all they can- If one 120 —while tossed, as was my lot to be, In a frail bark urged by two slender oars Over waves rough and deep, that, when they broke, Dashed their white foam against the palace walls Of Genoa the superb-should there be led 126 Raised and sustained by memory of Him strength And grasp of purpose, long ere sailed his ship To lay a new world open. Nor less prized 130 Be those impressions which incline the heart To mild, to lowly, and to seeming weak, Bend that way her desires. The dew, the storm 135 The dew whose moisture fell in gentle drops Of bounty infinite. 145 Between Powers that aim Higher to lift their lofty heads, impelled By no profane ambition, Powers that thrive By conflict, and their opposites, that trust In lowliness-a mid-way tract there lies Of thoughtful sentiment for every mind Pregnant with good. Young, Middle-aged, and Old, 150 From century on to century, must have known 155 And through each window's open fret-work looked O'er the blank Area of sacred earth Fetched from Mount Calvary, or haply delved That to descendants of the dead it holds 165 Is pictured, or their epitaphs can speak, 171 And, high above that length of cloistral roof, Or pause) the summit of the Leaning-tower. Who having left the Cemetery stands 175 In the Tower's shadow, of decline and fall 180 190 -Oh what a spectacle at every turn The Place unfolds, from pavement skinned with moss, Or grass-grown spaces, where the heaviest foot Provokes no echoes, but must softly tread; 195 Where Solitude with Silence paired stops short Of Desolation, and to Ruin's scythe Decay submits not. But where'er my steps 200 Shall wander, chiefly let me cull with care mine. -How lovely robed in forenoon light and shade, Each ministering to each, didst thou appear 206 Savona, Queen of territory fair As aught that marvellous coast thro' all its length Yields to the Stranger's eye. Remembrance holds As a selected treasure thy one cliff, 210 That, while it wore for melancholy crest The breath of air can be where earth had else near, 216 Garden and field all decked with orange bloom, And peach and citron, in Spring's mildest breeze Expanding; and, along the smooth shore curved Into a natural port, a tideless sea, 220 To that mild breeze with motion and with voice |