Page:A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields.djvu/84

Around the red-tiled roofs that slumber
Bathed in an azure light divine,
Grow olive trees, a countless number,
And tendrils propped that promise wine.

The mountains, stern as stern Pelides,
Wear crowns of flowers, and at their feet
The fair spring of the Hesperides
A carpet strows for Beauty meet.

The skies rain music, clear and clearer,
Sweet echoes from the Heavenly court!
And on the rounded hill-tops nearer
The gentle sheep and lambkins sport.

What long arcades of birch and hazel!
How soft the twilight that they cast!
And what cascades! The sunbeams dazzle,
And span them with a rainbow vast.

Peace on these shores herself invites us
To pass with her the hours away;
The very air we breathe incites us
To keep an endless holiday.

Ah! Who would not live here for ever,
From every care and passion free,
And leave the crowd its vain endeavour,
Its dusty road and town and sea?