MEMORIALS OF A TOUR ON THE CONTINENT, 1820
XXIV. THE ITALIAN ITINERANT AND THE SWISS GOATHERD.
PART I
MEMORIALS OF A TOUR ON THE CONTINENT, 1820
XXIV. THE ITALIAN ITINERANT AND THE SWISS GOATHERD.
I NOW that the farewell tear is dried, Heaven prosper thee, be hope thy guide Hope be thy guide, adventurous Boy; The wages of thy travel, joy! Whether for London bound–to trill Thy mountain notes with simple skill; Or on thy head to poise a show Of Images in seemly row; The graceful form of milk-white Steed, Or Bird that soared with Ganymede; Or through our hamlets thou wilt bear The sightless Milton, with his hair Around his placid temples curled; And Shakspeare at his side–a freight, If clay could think and mind were weight, For him who bore the world! Hope be thy guide, adventurous Boy; The wages of thy travel, joy! II But thou, perhaps, (alert as free Though serving sage philosophy) Wilt ramble over hill and dale, A Vender of the well-wrought Scale, Whose sentient tube instructs to time A purpose to a fickle clime: Whether thou choose this useful part, Or minister to finer art, Though robbed of many a cherished dream, And crossed by many a shattered scheme, What stirring wonders wilt thou see In the proud Isle of liberty! Yet will the Wanderer sometimes pine With thoughts which no delights can chase, Recall a Sister’s last embrace, His Mother’s neck entwine; Nor shall forget the Maiden coy That ‘would’ have loved the bright-haired Boy! III My Song, encouraged by the grace That beams from his ingenuous face, For this Adventurer scruples not To prophesy a golden lot; Due recompence, and safe return TO COMO’S steeps–his happy bourne! Where he, aloft in garden glade, Shall tend, with his own dark-eyed Maid, The towering maize, and prop the twig That ill supports the luscious fig; Or feed his eye in paths sun-proof With purple of the trellis-roof, That through the jealous leaves escapes From Cadenabbia’s pendent grapes. –Oh might he tempt that Goatherd-child To share his wanderings! him whose look Even yet my heart can scarcely brook, So touchingly he smiled– As with a rapture caught from heaven– For unasked alms in pity given.