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Thou dost: thou art the Spirit of pure Love
In her air still is felt thy breath divine,
MAL DU PAYS :
FROM THE BAY OF NAPLES.
I sit upon a craggy stone
Beneath the vine-embosomed hill;
Each revelling in its own sweet will:
The Spirit of intense delight
Lives here ; the air is joy revealing :
Seems basking in the common feeling :
And wherefore hangs this cloud of sadness
Upon my heart, when all is gay?
That animates this glorious day?
Yet heaven on earth around me lies!
Those sands—the blue waves dancing o'er : There is no dream of Paradise
Can rival this delicious shore !
The Mountains watch me from above;
The Waves invite with their glad voice: Nature smiles on me in her love,
And Heaven bids me alike rejoice :
Yon Sky looked not upon my birth :
The lovelier shore on which I tread Is not my own-my Mother-earth;
I could not sleep within its bed !
I feel my very dust would join
Even now, while blessing thee, thy hills,
Thy low hills rise before my eye, The greenness of thy herbage fills
My wearied heart refreshingly ! While, looking upward, fills my eye The witchery of thy soft blue Sky !
I see the leafy covert, green,
And rich and shadowy !-far within
Glimpses of Paradise—which win
Exulting in the outward air,
It cannot rudely enter there;
Lo-bosomed midst the shadowy trees,
Yon low thatched cottage peers in view ! Mine eye the sun-burnt reaper sees;
The gambols of his urchin crew :
The angry Clouds, the rains that dash
Thy Landscape's changeful cheek with tears ! The rainbow's hue, the sun-light's flash,
Thy gentle calm the more endears :
12. There is a sacred bond between
Man, and that spot where first the dawn, The blessed Light of Day was seen ;
Where first his breath of Life was drawn; Rocks—wastes-seas-mountains round him rise,
Home-home the unexiled spirit flies !