| |
Lake of Como
NO sound of wheels or hoof-beat breaks | |
| The silence of the summer day, | |
| As by the loveliest of all lakes | |
| I while the idle hours away. | |
| |
| I pace the leafy colonnade, | 5 |
| Where level branches of the plane | |
| Above me weave a roof of shade | |
| Impervious to the sun and rain. | |
| |
| At times a sudden rush of air | |
| Flutters the lazy leaves o’erhead, | 10 |
| And gleams of sunshine toss and flare | |
| Like torches down the path I tread. | |
| |
| By Somariva’s garden gate | |
| I make the marble stairs my seat, | |
| And hear the water, as I wait, | 15 |
| Lapping the steps beneath my feet. | |
| |
| The undulation sinks and swells | |
| Along the stony parapets, | |
| And far away the floating bells | |
| Tinkle upon the fisher’s nets. | 20 |
| |
| Silent and slow, by tower and town | |
| The freighted barges come and go, | |
| Their pendent shadows gliding down | |
| By town and tower submerged below. | |
| |
| The hills sweep upward from the shore, | 25 |
| With villas scattered one by one | |
| Upon their wooded spurs, and lower | |
| Bellaggio blazing in the sun. | |
| |
| And dimly seen, a tangled mass | |
| Of walls and woods, of light and shade, | 30 |
| Stands, beckoning up the Stelvio Pass, | |
| Varenna with its white cascade. | |
| |
| I ask myself, Is this a dream? | |
| Will it all vanish into air? | |
| Is there a land of such supreme | 35 |
| And perfect beauty anywhere? | |
| |
| Sweet vision! Do not fade away: | |
| Linger, until my heart shall take | |
| Into itself the summer day, | |
| And all the beauty of the lake; | 40 |
| |
| Linger, until upon my brain | |
| Is stamped an image of the scene; | |
| Then fade into the air again, | |
| And be as if thou hadst not been. | |
| |
