« AnteriorContinuar »
Or where Campania's e) plain forsaken lies,
Eternal blessings crown my earliest friend,
But me, not destin'd such delights to Share, My prime of life in wandering spent and care: Impell’d, with steps uncealing, to pursue Some fleeting good, that mocks me with the view; That, like the circle bounding earth and skies, Allures from far, yet, as I follow, flies; My fortune leads to traverse realms alone. And find no spot of all the world my own.
Ev'n now, where Alpine solitudes ascend, I fit me down a pensive hour to spend; And, plac'd on high above the storm's career, Look downward where an hundred realms appear; Lakes, forests, cities, plains extending wide, The pomp of kings, the shepherd's humbler pride.
c) Campada. Der Dichter meint wohl nicht die Proving dieses Namens im alten Italien, welche gegenwärtig Terra di Lavoro heisst, fordern den Theil des Kirchenstaats, welcher Campagna di Roma heisst, und Schlecht augebaut ist.
When thus creation's charms around combine, Amidst the store, should thankless pride repine? Say, should the philosophic mind disdain That good which makes each humbler bolom
vain? Let school - taught pride dissemble all it can, These little things are great to little man; And wiser he, whose sympathetic mind Exults in all the good of all mankind. Ye glittering 'towns, with wealth and fplendour
crown'd; Ye fields, where summer spreads profusion round; Ye lakes, whose vessels catch the busy gale; le bending swains, that dress the flowery vale; For me your tributary stores combine: Creation's heir, the world, the world is mine.
As some lone miser, visiting his store, Bends at his treasure, counts, recounts it o'er; Ioards after hoards his rising raptures fill, 'et still he sighs, for hoards are wanting still: "hus to my breast alternate passions rise, leas'd with each good that Heav'n to inan
supplies: et oft a sigh prevails, and sorrows fall, o see the hoard of human bliss so small; nd oft I'wish, amidst the scene, to find ome spot to real happiness consign'd, 'here my worn soul, each wandering hope
at rest, ay gather bliss to see my fellows blest.
But where to find that happiest spot below, ho can direct, when all pretend to know? le Chudd'ring tenant of the frigid zon, Idly proclaims that happiest spot his own; itols the treasures of his stormy seas, id his long nights of revelry and ease; le naked negro, panting at the line,
when the rigid his own;
Boasts of his golden sands and palmy wine,
Nature: a mother kind alike to all,
fails; . And honour finks where commerce long prevais. Hence every state to one loy'd blessing prone, Conforms and models life to that alone. Each to the fay’rite happiness attends, And spurns the plan that aims at other ends; Till carried to excess in each domain, .' This fav’rite good begets peculiar pain.
f) Idra; vermuthlich ist der Flecken dieses Namens, ?
Schwedischen Thallande, einer gebirgigen Gegend, 57
Fluy's Italienis, der sich bei Pisa in das Meer ergie
But let us try these truths with closer eyes, And trace them through the prospect as it lies: Here for a while my proper cares relign'd. Here let me sit in forrow for mankind; Like yon neglected shrub at random cast, That shades the steep, and sighs at every blast. Far to the right where Appennine h) al.
·cends, Bright as the summer, Italy ,extends; Its uplands sloping deck the mountain's side, Woods over woods in gay theatric pride; While oft some temple's mould'ring tops between With venerable grandeur mark the scene.
: Could nature's bounty satisfy the breast, The Sons of Italy were surely blest. Whatever fruits in different climes were found, That proudly rise, or hunbly court the ground; Whatever blooms in torrid tracts appear, Whose bright fuccellion decks the varied year; Whatever Iweet salute the northern sky With vernal lives, that blossom but to die; These here disporting own the kindred soil, Nor ask luxuriance from the planter's toil; While sea- born gales their gelid wings expand To winnow fragrance round the siniling land.
But Small the bliss that sense alone bestows, And sensual bliss is all the nation knows. In forid beauty groves and fields appear, . Man seems the only growth that dwindles here. Contrasted faults through all his manners reign: Though poor, luxurious ; though submillive, vain; Though grave, yet trilling; zealous, yet untrue; And even in penance planning fins anew. 'All evils here. contaminate the mind,
h) Die Apenninen, eine bekannte Gebirgskett: , die durch
ganz Italien geht:
That opulence departed leaves behind;
Yet, still the loss of wealth is here supplied By arts, the splendid wrecks of former pride; From these the feeble heart and long · fallen
mind An easy compensation seem to find. Here may be seen, in bloodless pomp array'd The paste - board triumph and the cavalcade; Processions form’d for piety and love, A mistress or a saint in every grove. By sports like these are all their cares beguild, The sports of children satisfy the child; Each nobler aim, represt by long controul. Now sinks at last, or feebly mans the foul; While low delights succeeding fast behind, In happier meaness occupy the mind: As in those domes, where Caesars once bore sway, Defac'd by time and tott'ring in decay, There in the ruin, heedless of the dead, The Shelter - seeking peasant builds his shed; And, wondering man could want the larger pile, Exults, and owns his cottage with a smile.
My soul turn from them, turn we to survey Where rougher climes a nobler race display,