Page:Landon in The London Literary Gazette 1820.pdf/8

 Literary Gazette, 21st October, 1820, Page 685

VAUCLUSE Tall rocks begirt the lovely valley round, Like barriers guarding its sweet loneliness; Clouds rested on their summits, and their sides Darken‘d with aged woods, where ivy twined And green moss grew unconscious of the sun: Rushing in fury from a gloomy cave, Black like the dwelling place of Death and Night, An angry river came; at first it traced Its course in wrath, and the dark cavern rang With echoes to its hoarse and sullen roar; But when it reach’d the peaceful valley, then, Like woman’s smile soothing wild rage away, The sunlight fell upon its troubled waves— It made the waters, like a curbed steed, Chafed and foamed angrily, but softly ﬂowed, A bright unbroken mirror, for the kiss Of the fair children of its fragrant banks, And close beside uprose the tree whose form Had once been beauty's refuge—sacred shade! Which even the lightning dares not violate, The hero's trophy and the bard's reward— The faded laurel.— Vaucluse! thou hast a melancholy charm, A sweet remembrance of departed time, When love awoke the lyre from its long sleep, Unbound the golden wings of poetry, And in thy groves the graceful Petrarch sought A shelter where his soul might wander free, Dwelling on tender thoughts and minstrel dreams, All that the bard can feel in solitude. Thy name is in his songs, and it will be Remembered, when thy woods shall wave no more.