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| KNOW’ST 1 thou the land which lovers ought to choose? | |
| Like blessings there descend the sparkling dews; | |
| In gleaming streams the crystal rivers run, | |
| The purple vintage clusters in the sun; | |
| Odors of flowers haunt the balmy breeze, | 5 |
| Rich fruits hang high upon the verdant trees; | |
| And vivid blossoms gem the shady groves | |
| Where bright-plumed birds discourse their careless loves. | |
| Beloved!—speed we from this sullen strand | |
| Until thy light feet press that green shore’s yellow sand. | 10 |
| |
| Look seaward thence, and nought shall meet thine eye | |
| But fairy isles like paintings on the sky; | |
| And, flying fast and free before the gale, | |
| The gaudy vessel with its glancing sail; | |
| And waters glittering in the glare of noon, | 15 |
| Or flecked with broken lines of crimson light | |
| When the far fisher’s fire affronts the night. | |
| Lovely as loved! towards that smiling shore | |
| Bear we our household gods, to fix for ever more. | |
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| It looks a dimple on the face of earth, | 20 |
| The seal of beauty, and the shrine of mirth; | |
| Nature is delicate and graceful there, | |
| The place of genius, feminine and fair; | |
| The winds are awed, nor dare to breathe aloud; | |
| The air seems never to have borne a cloud, | 25 |
| Save where volcanoes send to heaven their curled | |
| And solemn smokes, like altars of the world. | |
| Thrice beautiful! to that delightful spot | |
| Carry our married hearts, and be all pain forgot. | |
| |
| There Art, too, shows, when Nature’s beauty palls, | 30 |
| Her sculptured marbles, and her pictured walls; | |
| And there are forms in which they both conspire | |
| To whisper themes that know not how to tire: | |
| The speaking ruins in that gentle clime | |
| Have but been hallowed by the hand of Time, | 35 |
| And each can mutely prompt some thought of flame | |
| —The meanest stone is not without a name. | |
| Then come, beloved!—hasten o’er the sea | |
| To build our happy hearth in blooming Italy. | |
