Childe Harold's pilgrimage : a romaunt . ge 247 CX1V. Then turn we to her latest tribunes name,From her ten thousand tyrants turn to thee,Redeemer of dark centuries of shame—The friend of Petrarch—hope of Italy—Eienzi! last of Romans ! While the treeOf freedoms witherd trunk puts forth a leaf,Even for thy tomb a garland let it be—The forums champion, and the peoples chief—Her new-born Numa thou—with reign, alas ! too brief. cxv. Egeria ! sweet creation of some heartWhich found no mortal resting-place so fairAs thine ideal breast; whateer thou artOr wert,—a young Aurora of the air,The nympholep
Childe Harold's pilgrimage : a romaunt . ge 247 CX1V. Then turn we to her latest tribunes name,From her ten thousand tyrants turn to thee,Redeemer of dark centuries of shame—The friend of Petrarch—hope of Italy—Eienzi! last of Romans ! While the treeOf freedoms witherd trunk puts forth a leaf,Even for thy tomb a garland let it be—The forums champion, and the peoples chief—Her new-born Numa thou—with reign, alas ! too brief. cxv. Egeria ! sweet creation of some heartWhich found no mortal resting-place so fairAs thine ideal breast; whateer thou artOr wert,—a young Aurora of the air,The nympholepsy of some fond despair ;Or, it might be, a beauty of the earth,Who found a more than common votary thereToo much adoring; whatsoeer thy birth,Thou wert a beautiful thought, and softly bodied forth. CXVI. The mosses of thy fountain still are sprinkledWith thine Elysian water-drops ; the faceOf thy cave-guarded spring, with years unwrinkled,Reflects the meek-eyed genius of the place, 248 OTIILDE HAROLD S PILGRIMAGE CANTO IV. Whose green, wild margin now no more eraseArts works ; nor must the delicate waters sleep,Prisond in marble, bubbling from the baseOf the cleft statue, with a gentle leapThe rill runs oer, and round, fern, Mowers, and ivy creep CANTO IV. childe harolds pilgrimage 249 CXVIL Fantastically tangled : the green hillsAre clothed with early blossoms, through the grassThe quick-eyed lizard rustles, and the billsOf summer-birds sing welcome as ye pass ;Flowers fresh in hue, and many in their class,Implore the pausing step, and with their dyesDance in the soft breeze in a fairy mass ;The sweetness of the violets deep blue eyes,Kissd by the breath of heaven, seems colourd by its skies. CXV11I. Here didst thou dwell, in this enchanted cover,Egeria ! thy all heavenly bosom beatingFor the far footsteps of thy mortal lover;The purple Midnight veild that mystic meetingWith her most starry canopy, and seatingThyself by thine adorer, what befell ?This cave was s
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