Page:Landon in Literary Gazette 1823.pdf/48



Guido. But that sweet spot was sacred, love, to thee, Thou wert the deity of its green beauty: Its solitude was given to fond dreams A lover's dreams of thee. It was a dell Just midway up a wood-girt mountain; oaks, Beeches, and darkling chesnuts, and old pines, Amid whose leaves the wind was musical, Guarded it round; save in one open place, A rocky point, from whence the eye might rove O'er cornfields in their yellow wealth, o'er plains Where wandered a fair river, olive groves, The sun tipt minarets, some cottages, Heaths wandering off in barrenness, yet sweet With bee-sought wild flowers, just a shadowy glance Of a far city with tall battlements; And to the east was spread the glorious sea, Bounded and canopied by the blue sky:— There is no entrance but by a rough path Thro' the black forest, narrow and scarce known; When suddenly the gloomy trees give way, And azure gleamings come through the soft boughs Of white-flowered myrtles and the pink acacia, And the glade is illumined suddenly By blushes from ten thousand crimson roses, Nature's own beautiful and fragrant lamps; And there is turf beneath, soft scented turf, Mingled with thyme and violets. My , What a sweet home we might find there! Ianthe. 			Dear , I should be happy as the lark at morning. I do love the fresh air, the pleasant buds, The song of the glad birds, the forest trees; The lights the music of the carnival,