Page:Landon in The New Monthly 1826.pdf/5



Fountain with a changeful shade Of interwoven leaves and blossoms made; The leaves that turn'd the light to emerald green, While colour'd buds like rainbows shone between: And on the southern bank, as if beset With ocean pearls, grew the white violet; Above there stood a graceful orange-tree, Where Spring and Summer dwelt in amity, And shared the boughs between them,—one with flowers Its silver offering to the sunshine hours; The other with its fruit, like Indian gold, Or those bright apples the last lover roll'd In Atalanta's path and won the day— Alas! how often gold has led astray! The shadow of old chestnut trees was round— They were the guardians of the hallow'd ground; The hunter in his chase had past it by, So closely was it screen'd from curious eye. On the bank opposite to that, where strew'd Sigh'd the pale violets' sweet multitude, There was a little Grotto, and like stars The roof was set with crystal and with spars Trembling in light;—it needed much their aid, For at the entrance the dark branches play'd Of a lone cypress, and the summer-day Was changed to twilight as it made its way. It is Egeria's Grotto. Her bright hair Has left its odour on the fragrant air; The echo of her step is lingering still In the low music of the lute-toned rill; And here the flowers are beautiful and young As when beneath her ivory feet they sprung. Ay, this made Love delicious as a dream, Save that it was too constant but to seem— No time to tire, gone almost soon as seen; Known but by happiness, that it had been— A shade, but such a shade as rainbows cast Upon the clouds, in its first beauty past— A mystery, such mystery as the breath Lurking in summer sweetness on a wreath, Which we would but enjoy, but not explore, Too blest in the pleased sense to desire more. And thus if Love would last, thus must it be— A wish, a vision, and a fantasie.