"^mnmm "^noiimm ■^smmyav^ ''mimni^ -< ^OFCAUFOff^ ^5J\EUNIVER% ^lOSANCEl i>o^ ^•lOSANCEl^;^ ^tllBRARYOc >-i ^tllBRARY OFCAllFORi^ ^AOJIlVDJi ^OFCAIIFO; ^^Auvaaii-^^ '■^oxwnm' ;mmm//. ^iosanc. ^^« f- g .jjclOSANCflfjVx jo'<^ '%ojiiv3jo>' AWEUNIVERS/a fa - i ^r^ijiNVSoi^ ^lOSANCElfx^ ^OFCAllFOff^ ^OFCAllFOft^ ^£>ASV ^- < 5.\\EUmVERy/4 v^lOSANCfl% ^ii ^OFCALIFOftf^ *^^ ,\WEUNIVERS'//i ^•lOSAfJCElfx^ . That delicious clime Wherei?i the immortal aloe loves to bloom. It is almost impossible to do justice to the ever-varying beauty and fertility vyhich distinguish this part of the coast : — Partout on voir murir, partout en voit eclore £t les fruits de Pomone, et les presens de Flore ! 6. St. Remo's bell. St. Remo, in addition to the merits here recorded, is the birth-place of the famous astrologer, Nostradamus, and contains the celebrated triumphal arch and mausoleum, built by the Romans — still nearly perfect, and much admired by antiquarians. 7. Beyond in purple light, Proud Genoa soa7's — a glad and gorgeous sight ! The first view of Genoa, on a morning like the present, seetned nothing less than a work of enchantment. Those only who have seen NOTES TO CANTO T. 75 can form a just estimate of its novel and accumulated beauties; but any description worthy of the subject, will, it is feared, be a hopeless .desideratum in the pen and portfolio sketches of modern times : — Ecco ! vediam hi maestosa immensa Citta ! che al mar' le sponde, il dorso ai monti Occupa tutta, e tutta a cerchio adoma ! And veiljiung white from her hair's glossy coil. Announce the Circe of Liguria's soil ! The dress of the Genoese ladies is peculiarly graceful, and the tasteful disposition of the mezzaro, here alluded to, shews the wearer to advantage — particularly at vespers. 9. While yon Madoyina, &c. In the church of Santo Sirio — a chef-d'ceuvre of its kind, but still inferior to that in the Albergo del Poveri — the unrivalled work of Mi- chael Angelo. 10. Domes that bum In molten gold like Nerd's. i.e. Like Nero's golden house of antiquity — not the modem Signor Nero, who has also a palace here. The dome alluded to is that in the palace of Durazzo, which is entirely covered with Peruvian gold burnished ! 76 NOTES TO CANTO I. 11. . . . . Treasures amassed Were nobly lavished — Charity took root, Sec. For the number and costly magnificence of her charitable institu- tions and edifices, Genoa stands unrivalled. The Allergo dei Poveri, built and endowed at the expense of a single family — the Brignoli — is the astonishment of every traveller. 12. The Dorians sculptured halls are desolate, &c. The description in the text is to be taken literally, and, indeed, the author is not aware that in any stanza he has greatly, if at all, diverged through poetical licence, from the real and present state of Genoa. Tliose who would know more, and hear worse, have only to converse with the inhabitants. 13. City of Delight. An epithet of endearment by which the Genoese recognise their capital, and expressive of an affection, such as the Moors still cherish for their beloved Alhambra. 14. Upon the Alpine snow A rosyfiood survives the parent day. A phenomenon of imposing splendour, frequent here, and pecu- liarly enhanced by the immediate vicinity of the sea. NOTES TO CANTO I. 77 15. From yon lone shrine, perched on the silent hill, &c. A place of pilgrimage, crowning the summit of a picturesque hill overlooking the sea. 16. Here first a school-boy o'er the ^caters blue, His future slave, the world's great mariner, &c. Columbus was born at Genoa in 1447. See " Vita di Cliristqforo Colombo, 4c. del Cav. Bossi ;" an interesting and well accredited work. 17. White temples lift their patriarchal towers. The pilot's landmark and the pilgrini's guide. This is but another feature of the numberless beauties, which, at every step on this coast, and in endless combinations, excite and keep alive the traveller's admiration.* 18. There solemn capuchin with cowl and cord. This, like other religious orders, has had its strength considerably reinforced since the cessation of hostilities ; but it appears that many of the brotherhood, though excellent soldiers, make very indifferent capuchins. Tlie present redundancy in the latter, as well as in that of St. Francis, offers melancholy evidence of the state of the country, where, among many of the young nobility, the monastic habit and cell are objects of ambition. * For a very animated and graphic picture of this coast, see Da. J. Johnson's " Change of Air." 78 NOTES TO CANTO I. 19. Fettered and goaded creeps the galley slave. A recent occurrence — and the hero, it is said, of noble family, but afterwards a carbonaro ; and, at the time of his capture, a chief of brigands. 20. And now my steps are on Hetmrid's hills. The road from Genoa to Florence commands an uninterrupted succession of all tliose varieties of scenery, soil, and productions, for which Italy is so remarkable. The road from Genoa to the Tuscan frontier is of recent and magnificent construction. What scenery and what splendid skies are these ! 21. The banished Dante. Exulem a Florentia excepit Ravenna, vivo fruens, mortuum colens — tumulum pretiosum musis, S. P. Q. Rav : jure ac aere suo tamquam thesaurum suum munivit, instauravit, omavit. Epitaph. 22. . . , . Even our divinest Bard. ■ T197 '■ Milton. — His passionate admiration of Tuscany and Tuscan insti- tutions enters into the subject of many of his epistles. In after life they became the source of many soothing reminiscences — " Were I to open my eyes once more on earth," said he, " I would wish to open them on Fiesole and the Val d'Amo." See his Epiatphium Damonis, I. 129. NOTES TO CANTO I. 79 23. The dazzling tracks of ether trod alone. Till the bright vision overivhelmed his own ! This is not merely poetical. Galileo, during his labours upon the telescope, which he brought to unprecedented perfection, and by incessant application to study, and the improvement of his glasses, became blind. 24. . . . . The spell-bound A [fieri. In allusion to some characteristic passages in his early and after life, for which see his personal memoirs. 25. Hither, from colder climes, thy smile to share, 8cc. The author's obsei-vations on this head are reserved for a subsequent portion of the work. The best books for an invalid are those of Dr. Clark and Dr. Johnson. 26. She — like the almond-tree, all prematurely Bursting injioiver, &c. This simile being — as far as the author is acquainted — new, is employed with diffidence; although to him its application in the present instance is strikingly characteristic. 27. Invites repose, and cheers the pilgrim's dream. The right bank, or lungamo, is that recommended as a winter residence for invalids : the left bank is exposed to a cold wind from the Apennines. 80 NOTES TO CANTO I. 28. . . . . Yo7i miraculous Tower. The celebrated leaning tower, which commands one of the most enchanting views in Italy. — For its history, see Simond's Travels. 29. The Campo'Santo — Citt/ of the Dead? The famous Cemetery of Pisa. See Eustace, Simond, &c. 30. Where Palestine Hath strewn its dust — It is calculated that, to form this Cemetery, as much earth was imported firom the Holy Land by the Pisans (on their return from the third Crusade) as would be a sufficient cargo for fifty vessels of 300 tons burden. END OF THE NOTES TO CANTO FIKST. CANTO SECOND. :.V:G5ic. Canta il prigione, e men molesta e grftvc, Senta la stretta sna custodia antica — Cosl non per aver gloria, n6 vanto. Ma per temprare 11 duol, . . . io canto, Gio. L. Semprokio. -'!'. f/I . J™9ifqoiIaoqA rnow-woiO i— enoi. ~^i^sniao^ .In9iio8 lo T^JBcf sriJ no irfgiabiM ' HT OT MMtH-THOtW 1 - itsas "j55wS>io\K\S " sol «.e ami ,.i< ARGUMENT. CANTO SECOND. Introductory Stanzas — Lyric verses at sea — Present and retio- spective scenes — The modem and ancient Romans — Civita Vecchia — The Tyber — Rome — Sketch of the scenery — Impressions — Approach to Naples — Procida Ischia, &c. — Sketch from the gulf — Neapolitan proverbs — Peculiarities of soil and situation — Traits, physical and moral — Scenes on the Toledo and the Mole — Improvisatore — Achaian tombs — Ancient warrior— Posilippo — Virgil's tomb — Impressions in Pompeii — Descriptive stanzas — Eumachia — Herculaneum — Descent and description — Lava bust — Apostrophe- — Man — His frailty and presumption — Bai^ — Avernus — Acheron — Sibyl's grotto — Elysian fields — Pliny — Lucullus — Nero — Lintemum — SciPio Afkicanus — Evening on Miseimm — Puteoli — St. Paul — Tramon- tana — Episode — Creed, Christian — Epictetic — Evening in Naples — Symptoms — Volcano — Eruption of Vesuvius — Scene on the bay during the night — The coral-fisher — Morning — Strange transitions — Characteristic traits — Funeral obsequies and resuscitation- — Tomb of Conrad of Swabia — Capre^e — Tiberius — Sketch of the island — Apostrophe — Possidonia, PjESt u m — Sorrento — Evening— Fire-flies — Glow-worm — Apostrophe — Intellectual mind — Tlie fate of Poets — Contrasts — Exhortations — Hygeia — Moral reflexions — Man, his nature and destination — The pilgrim's philosophy in reference to himself — Midnight on the bay of Sorrento — Conclusion. Night-Hymn to the Virgin Page 73 Lines to a Sicilian Air 76 Charybdis 77 Notes to Canto Second 81 ERRATUM. Stanza civ., p. hi,, line 8., for " Unfolding," read " Unfading." THE HELIOTROPE. CANTO SECOND. dulcis alebat Parthenope Virg, Magni tumuUs adcanto Magistri.— Stat. I. Is not the world before me ? — sunbright shores Where scarce a cloud obtrudes 'twixt earth and heaven ; Where Flora revels, and Pomona pours Spontaneous harvests : — where to man is given Earth's richest gifts, and art's concentred stores — Sage laws — paternal sway : where kings have thriven And throned in triumph, left their names to be ^ Proud synonymes of immortality. 2 THE HELIOTROPE. canto n, II. Is not the world before me, where to soothe This feverish thirst of change ? where I may bound My wish by Nature's bounty — gently smooth My footsteps with the tiowers that blossom round ? No — haunted by a spell that mocks at truth — Hope lures me on — still points to some new ground More blessed — to skies more balmy still — where time Sits on the heart, like sunshine on the clime ! III. Weary of that we have — of that me want Impatient : led by longings that sum up Life's brittle span ; one point attained, we pant With some new enterprise — flavour life's cup With nectar, that anticipates the plant Destined to yield it ; ever hungering sup On shadowy banquet— fever in his veins. The Pilgrim ever longs for fresher plains. 2 CANTO II. THE HELIOTROPE. IV. Still sympathizing with the changeful hues That tinge his mind's horizon — Nature's face, So beauteous yesterday — to-day imbues His soul with mystic gloom ; a morbid trace Sombres the sky ; from every healing juice He wrings a poison ; pines for change of place- Dwells on each form of unsubstantial joy — But while he grasps the treasure, finds the alloy ! Sick of no " medicable wound," the mind. From her cramp'd tenement, expatiates far Through Fancy's realms ; and in her flight, behind Leaves present care, to feign some kindly star. Within whose bright and magic circle shrined Health shall be found, and hush'd the grating jar Of human passions ! Thus, like rainbow skies, The vision glows, but while he follows, flies ! — B 2 THE HELIOTROPE. canto n. 1. But now the main — the heavino- main — The world of waves before me ! In evening shades, Hetruria fades — New stars are kindHn^ o'er me ! Again I breathe, where the billows seethe. And the breeze dispels my sadness ! When thoughts be dark, oh, what like the bark, Can change my grief to gladness ! No scene for me like the bounding sea ! No couch like my cabin pillow ! No fair domain like yon ocean's plain, And my coursers — the breeze and billow ! Then on, still on, where Nature's zone And the looks of love are brightest ! Where the groves are green, and the sky serene, And the breath of heaven the lightest ! CANTO u. THE HELIOTROPE. Where song and summer, meeting, gild The land with two-fold glory ! And every cliff, that greets my skiff, Detains me with its story ! Thus let me roam, till I find a home Which health and beauty hallow ! In bowers of spring, here rest my wing; Then change, and choose like the swallow 1 VI. The breath of morn is on the blue Tyrrhene : Elba behind ; and, shadowed in the water. What classic grandeur marks the opening scene, As history counts her ancient fields of slaughter ! — Her tombs, towers, aqueducts, and temples green Bordering the shore ! where still Latintjs' daughter Sits throned in song — the Trojan at her side, — And baffled Turnus battles for his bride ! 3 THE HELIOTROPE. < anto ii. VII. Here trophied fragments of antiquity Obstruct the plough ; there Parian sculpture paves The unpeopled street, or stems the encroaching sea : Yet, 'mid those columns tottering o'er the graves Of Latian kings, their haughty progeny Stand proudly forth ; and — pointing to the weaves — The sky and clime — their temples and their towers — Exclaim with patriot pride — These — these are ours ! 4 VIII. Our heritage ! then deem ye we are poor. Weighing our glory, balanced with your gold ? Ours is the wealth that gives the Itahan boor A noble's patent ! Though oppressed and sold — 5 Though commerce starves, where fleets were wont to moor Freighted with plenty ! — we are not grown cold, Nor callous : but with hearts thus disunited. Our strength, like our volcanic soil, is blighted ! CANTO II. THE HELIOTRUPE. 7 IX. What sank the Babylonian, and the Made, Persian, and Greek, and last our Roman realm ? Disunion! — jealousies — the jarring creed Of sordid int 'rests ! Traitors at the helm And slaves to row — the galley hath small need Of storms, or Jove's forked thunder to o'erwhelm Her prosperous course : — of winds and waves the sport, The Syrtis is her shore — Charybdis is her port ! 6 X. But that which made, would make us still, man's dread Or his defence — is the strong heart and arm Of Concord ! Let her but exalt her head, 7 Where now her deep-based temple stands — hearts warm. Hands willing — ^patriots worthy of the dead And Rome's best day — forth starting at the charm Of her lost voice ! — regenerated bloom Should fill the land, and change our moral doom ! THE HELIOTROPE. canto ir. XI. Yes ! — phcEiiix-like, from out their scattered pyres Romans should spring to vindicate that name And spirit, which (now spent in poor desires — Pursuits that scarce a Sybaris would claim !) Once roused and swayed the Senate's ancient sires — Winged their swift edicts — made their favour yawe- Their consuls kings ! their curule chair a throne — Their sages demi-gods — the world their own • « « XII. But lo, the Tyber ! Distant, yet not dim, The Eternal City glimmers from her hills : And brightly skirting the horizon's rim, Albano conjures up, Frescati fills The mind with glorious images that swim Embodied on my gaze ! There gushing rills — Groves evergreen : with evening sapphires warm, Here smiles Soracte — there the " Sabine Farm !" CANTO II. THE HELIOTROPE. » XIII. Tombs sentinel the plain — itself a tomb, That undulates \vith dust ! each lofty mole Whose arches lise like triumphs o'er the doom Of empire — in whose channels rivers roll — Causeways that drain the distant hills in Rome ! 9 All wake unwonted feelings in the soul And draw me on, where, glorious in her fall, Earth's mighty mistress spreads her gorgeous pall. XIV. No TuUy fulraines in her forum now ! lO No fire in Vesta's fane ! Her Capitol Is but a shrine, where pilgrims pause to bow Over her relics ! Withered like a scroll Of cypress, clings the laurel to her brow ! And W'here the car of triumph wont to roll Through captive kings — miasma taints the gale And the maimed arch hath half forgot its tale ! 10 THE HELIOTROPE. XV. CANTO II. But here I trespass. Now, fair Procida — n And Ischia (piled on rebel giant's limbs !) Show their volcanic clefts ; while Nisita Robed in her own immortal summer, swims Like Nereid-palace, buoyant on the Bay. Transparent round Vesuvio's crater skims The sulphurous vapour — white as Alpine snow Sorrento spreads her palaced shore below ! XVI. Aloof, old Capri's castellated rocks O'erlook the wave ; Misenum sentinels His Trojan relics ; leeward, Baise locks The bright wave in her bosom ; proudly swells St. Elmo, frowning from his lava blocks : Beneath — the " city of a thousand spells," Set like a precious gem — Parthenope Smiles as of yore — the Syren of the sea ! 12 CANTO II. THE HELIOTROPE. 1 1 XVII. The world is now before me, where to chuse My peaceful sojourn. There Sorrento greets Me welcome, with the voice of Tasso*'s muse ! 13 Here Posilippo from her laurelled seats, Points to the Sepulchre, where Genius strews Her votive garland ! There, thy cool retreats, Camaldoli ! Each with a Syren's voice That breathes enchantment round me. — Take thy choice ! XVIIl. Here are the shades that cradled young Romance — That realize the poet's wildest dream ! Where, breathing gladness, sea-born Zephyrs dance ; And glittering towns in fairy prospect gleam : Where groves of spices woo thee to advance ; And arched with rainbows from its fount the stream Dashing descends, or musically slow, Pours its spring beverage o'er the vale below. 12 THE HKLIOTROPE. XIX. CANTO 11. " Look but on Naples," say her bards, " and die," 14 Or, living, never hope to see again Campania's garden, or Salerno's sky ! — So rich in all that maketh raonarchs vain — That schools the sage, or fires the poet's eye ! And sooth to say, who sees her will retain In his mind's eye a gorgeous soil, and clime, The last to vanish with the lapse of time ! XX. They tell me 'tis a "fragment dropt from heaven I" Whose flowers, perennial fruits, and perfumes sprung From roots in Paradise, ere man was driven In exile from its bowers — with bosom stung. By guilt and sorrow, till these shores were given In lieu of his lost Eden ! — Yet, though flung From heaven thus richly fraught — still, as of yore, The Tempter sows hot discord through its core ! CANTO II. THE HELIOTROPE. 13 XXI. And, torn by the fierce conflict, like man's breast. By struggling passions, this electric soil 15 Shows her hot scars, and from the mountain''s crest To the sea-shore, the ravage and turmoil Of hostile elements, have deep impressed Her surface with revolt : dense caldrons boil — The insidious furnace burns — the seething lake Vomits hot vapour — 'mid the flowery brake ! XXII. Questioned — the impassive earth replies with flame ; The mountains feed, and, simmering, the broad bay 1 6 Heaves o'er, a forge ! Convulsed through all her frame Earth bums, yet is not blighted : lightnings play — Red rolls the lava tide, but cannot tame Down to sterility her teeming clay ! Though scathed to-day — to-morrow, from its tomb, Her verdure springs with renovated bloom ! 24 THE HELIOTROPE. canto ii. XXIII. Here in their beds of lava, cities sleep : 17 And hills heaved from the earth's hot bosom soar Where cities flourished I — Even yon peopled steep Stands piled on fire, that strains to burst its core, Whose brittle crust alone debars the deep Dread vortex from its streets ! Yet evermore Life crowds the spot ! men laugh, and leave their saint To avert the judgments gloomier spirits paint ! XXIV. And living while they live, do they not well ? Their life's a banquet ; and while sages make Their couch on ashes, and by learning swell Death's startling chances ! — they, incredulous, quake With no prophetic horrors ! Where they dwell, Their fathers dwelt, and died, and shall awake ! That love which binds Helvetia's mountaineer, 'Mid rocks and snows, glows in the lava here ! CANTO u. THE HELIOTROPi:. 1 5 XXV. With life these streets o'erflow — exuberant As is their soil : — there ranged the gaudy stalls Well piled with fruit, and glittering traffic, plant Their motley ensigns ; Pulcinello calls His faithful votaries ; Cappucini chant ig Their Lady's hymn ; Calabria's bagpipe squalls Monks rant, empirics bawl ; in pilgrim weeds The bandit tells his plunder with his beads ! XXVI. There masked processions bear the unmasked dead ; Here pious sisters chant lugubrious olio ; Scribes write, knaves plead, and lazzaroni spread Nets for the novice ; near the shrined rosoglio The thirsty take their stand ; the bay's calm bed Gleams hke a rich illuminated folio ! 19 While, over all Vesuvius spouts his fire ; And fitful thunders thrill the electric wire. 16 THE HELIOTROPE. xxvir. CANTO 11. Yonder, in lazy groups along the Mole, An old grey minstrel binds the listening crowd With the strong bond of passion ; numbers roll Sonorous from his lips ; pompous and loud He tells the Tale of Troy ; scanty in stole, — But rich in a rude harp — humble yet proud Of his high calling — the Improvisatore 20 Recites the startling page of ancient story ! XXVIII. And see, the circle narrows, as the tale Reaches its climax ; or the antithesis Well pointed strikes : how Ammon's wasting hail Levelled the cities ! How the bowers of bliss, Tempted by sons of Earth, beheld them quail To the dread Thunderer ! With such theme as this, He sways the mob, revives their patriot fires. Then points in triumph to the gods, their sires ! CANTO II. THE HELIOTROPE. 17 XXIX. Here, in the pilgrim's ear, the Achaian tombs Scooped in the height and hollowed on the shore, Tell their first history : while the aloe blooms — The palm tree blossoms, as in days of yore — The blue bay laves, and the same sky ilhmies The land of their renown ; and where ye pore With curious eye, lodged in their pristine fanes. Behold the dust that once adorned those plains ! XXX. There, housed with his old armour and his god. The warrior slumbers : that wherein he trusted Still guards his grave, and from the hallowed clod Proclaims how prowess, with his creed adjusted, Left him a sovereign, where the exile trod ; But now his gods, frail as his glaive, are rusted, Shrineless and fallen ! nations round him rise That know not him nor his divinities ! 18 THE HELIOTROPE. canto::. xxxi; Yet, where their sepulchres rise by the sea, gi Whose land they loved, adopted, and adorned. Calm let them rest ! nor shame their sanctuary By sordid pillage ; but, where they were mourned. Or mourners and retired to their long; rest — As we must all ! — with feelings unsuborned By cold research, — sift not the little spoil. That nature spares them from its kindred soil ! * * * XXXII. Sweet PosiLippo ! 'mid thy cedared swell 22 And sunny gardens, art and nature meet In rival lustre ! Here how sweet to dwell, Girt by the scenes of yore ! and, at my feet. Hear Amphitrite tune her murmuring shell, And music melt from every green retreat ! Gazing on thee, the pilgrim's fancy sees The golden shades of old Hesperides ! CANTO H. THK HELIOIROPE. 19 XXXIII. Following the votive path, winding, half hid With laurel and pomegranate leaves, they show A sacred pile — a time-worn pyramid Festooned with many flowers — Who sleeps below i Behold the name ! and let the distich bid Thee bow before it ! mocking time's dull flow And moral darkness— here the Aonian choir Still lingering guard the Master's broken lyre ! 23 XXXIV. The Poet's song, and sanctifying dust, Here left, and living, stamp upon the soil The seal of immortality ! though bust Nor monument of man's elaborate toil. Nor precious bronze, nor sculptured urn incrust The haunted precincts — what time cannot spoil. Nor man impair — traits of immortal mind Claim for that dust the homage of mankind ! c 2 20 THE HELIOTROPE. canto ii. XXXV. Here, every tree and stone have found a tongue ! Here, rapture-smit, Boccacio, for the lyre, 24 Renounced the world ! — inspired by him who sung The Trojan Exile — woes and warfare dire — How Latium rose, and fair Laviniura sprung A second Ilium ! Oh, how poor the pyre That kingdoms raise ! how poor the Caesars' sway. To his, whose empire was the Epic lay ! * * # XXXVI. PoMPEiA ! disentombed Pompeia ! Here 2s Before me in her pall of ashes spread — Wrenched from the gulf of ages — she whose bier Was the unbowelled mountain, lifts her head Sad, but not silent ! Thrilling in my ear She tells her tale of horror, till the dread And sudden drama mustering through the air. Seems to rehearse the day of her despair ! CANTO II. THE HELIOTROPE. 21 XXXVII. Joyful she feasted 'neath her olive tree, Then rose to " dance and play :" and if a cloud O'ershadowed her thronged circus, who could see The impending deluge brooding in its shroud ? On went the games ! mirth and festivity Increased — prevailed : till rendingly and loud The earth and sky with consentaneous roar Denounced her doom — that time should be no more ! XXXVIII. Shook to its centre, the convulsive soil Closed round the flying : — Sarno's tortured tide 26 O 'erleapt its channel — eager for its spoil ! Thick darkness fell, and, wasting fast and wide, Wrath opened her dread floodgates ! Brief the toil And terror of resistance : — art supplied No subterfuge ! — the pillared crypt, and cave That proffered shelter, proved a living grave ! 27 22 THE HELIOTROPE. canto ii. XXXIX. Within the circus, tribunal, and shrine, Shrieking they perished : there the usurer sank 28 Grasping his gold ; the bacchant at his wine ; The gambler at his dice ! age, grade, nor rank, Nor all they loved, revered, or deemed divine. Found help or rescue ; unredeemed they drank Their cup of horror to the dregs, and fell With heaven's avenging thunders for their knell ! XL. Their city a vast sepulchre ! — their hearth 29 A charnel house ! The beautiful and brave, Whose high achievements, or whose charms, gave birth To songs, and civic wreath, unheeded crave A pause 'twixt life and death : no hand on earth, No voice from heaven, rephed to close the grave Yawning around them. Still the burning shower Rained down upon them with unslackening power ! CANTO II. THE HELIOTROPE. 23 XLI. 'Tis an old tale ! Yet, gazing thus, it seems But yesterday the circling wine-cup went 30 Its joyous round ! Here still the pilgrim deems New guests arrive — the reveller sits intent At his carousal — quaffing to the themes Of Thracian Orpheus : lo, the cups indent The conscious marble, and the amphorae still Seem redolent of old Falerno's hill ! XLII. It seems but yesterday ! Half sculptured there, On the paved forum wedged, the marble shaft Waits but the workman to resume his care, And reed it by the cunning of his craft. 31 The chips, struck from his chisel, fresh and fair, Lie scattered round ; th' acanthus leaves ingraft The half-wrought capital ; and Isis' shrine Retains untouched her implements divine. 32 24 THE HELIOTROPE. canto n. XLIII. The streets are hollowed by the rolling car In sinuous furrows ; there the lava stone Retains, deep grooved, the frequent axle's scar. 33 Here oft the pageant passed, and triumph shone ; Here warriors bore the glittering spoils of war, And met the full, fair city smiling on With wreath and paean ! — gay as those who drink The draught of pleasure on destruction's brink ! XLIV. The frescoed wall, the rich mosaic floor. Elaborate, fresh, and'garlanded with flowers Of ancient fable : — crypt, and lintelled door 34 Writ with the name of their last tenant — towers That still in strength aspire, as when they bore Their Roman standard — from the whelming showers That formed their grave — return, like spectres risen, To solve the mysteries of their fearful prison ! CANTO II. THE HELIOTROPE. 25 XLV Eumachia ! last fair relic of that shrine 35 Where — once a worshipper — half worshipped now. Thy presence hallows what was then divine. Those features how celestial ! on that brow What dignity ! Was ever beauty's line More sweetly moulded ! Well may pilgrim bow — This is no idol — no idolatry To give what homage Pallas claimed, to thee ! XLVI. It seems as if the very stone that wears Thy living semblance, had survived the hour That strewed the fane, to shed through after years A lingering sanctity — a mystic dower — Around that altar ! — So, where Beauty rears Her sceptre — man still moulded to her power. Will render homage with impassioned breast. And deem each spot divine her presence bless'd. 26 THE HELIOTROPE. canto n. XLVII. But lo, the " street of sepulchres," where bust, 36 And scroll, and epicede, and cenotaph, And urns with pristine ashes ! — human dust Which that dread day, that turned their fields to chaff — Their city to a shroud — spared in its crust Inviolate ; while their wretched children — half Of that fair province ! blasted in their pride, Sank down unwept — unmonumented died ! XLVIII. And here the living — while erecting tombs 37 To shrine ancestral dust — left off their toil To find their own ! Where now the citron blooms, And fig-trees flourish — sifted from the spoil Of centuries, the mattock still exhumes Their umless relics — where the sacred oil Was never sprinkled — where the pious tear Of kindred sorrow, never reached their bier ! CANTO II. THE HELIOTROPE. XLIX. And yet more dread seems Heracleia's doom ! If, tvvixt the seething lava, and the shower ss That whelmed them both, the living may presume One fierce alternative in that last hour, To choose the flood or ashes for their tomb ! These time unlocks — of that cements the power ; The ashes' hold, man's labour can unclasp, But scarce may loose the lava's iron grasp ! L. The sunset left her basking in its beam. Her streets o'erflowing — peace within her wall " And plenty in her garner ;" when the scream Of frenzy wakening with the lava fall Invoked the gods I Girt by the smouldering steam Of that mephitic flood, the piteous call Brought but despairing echoes ; till the flow Of scorchino- torrents hushed the wail of woe ! 28 THE HELIOTROPE. canto n. LI. Some shrieked, and fainting, died ; others too strong To sink without a struggle — struggled hard For life and those they loved ! But 'twas not long — No strength could bar the torrent or retard Its whelming sweep ! The loftiest dome among Their temples, lent but momentary ward. The torrent scaled the wall — gushed through the gate — Forced every door — and drove them to their fate ! LII. Some cursing, called their gods. Some, by the flood 39 Moulded like statues, stood erect, and flung Their desperate looks to heaven : — their seething blood Shot frenzy through the maddening brain, and stung Like scorpions — there each writhing victim stood Till the red deluge, fiercely deepening, wrung Him in its grasp ; and, quenched, the stiffening flame Closed like an iron coffin round his frame ! CANTO II. THE HELIOTROPE, 29 Llli. Enough — Now let me thread the deep dark cell Bored through the lava blocks. A flickering torch Brandished by a grim guide, consorteth well With the wild scene ! A half unburied porch Yawns on my right, where yet the breath of hell Nauseates the sense that kindled it would scorch ! Deeper and gloomier, my strained eyes explore The lofty circus, vault, and corridor ; 41 LIV. Farther, and darker, where the pick-axe cleaves A path ; ghost-like the city, with her gods Glued by the lava to their shrine, receives My faltering step : in chambers once the abodes Of life and sunshine — where the bronze still heaves With human likeness — lo, the miner plods With torch and mattock, and discoursing, shows The hoarded fragments of Heracha's woes I 30 THE HELIOTROPE. canto ii LV. And last, he led me to a bust whereon Few look unmoved, and, leaving, turn again To gaze : not sculptured from the Parian stone, Nor bronze of Corinth, nor the Theban plain — But cast, when the fierce lava-flood was thrown On living hearts ! A monument of pain Surpassing thought — where beauty left the mould Of her soft bosom in its fiery fold ! 41 LVI. It is a sacred relic, taking place Of sterner records ; hideously acquainting The eye with woe's extreme ! Behold the face Beauteous, then blackening — eloquently painting Its helpless victim in the fierce embrace Of her destroyer — like a demon tainting Her life's sweet breath — till, withered to the core. She left her likeness in the burning ore ! CANTO n. THE HflLIOTROPE. .31 I.VII. Yet why pursue the theme ? Have not since then Proud cities been entombed ; and ocean's deep Paved with the populous abodes of men ? True ! but hke these, roused from its iron sleep, What city hath returned to earth again 42 To meet man's gaze? None ! and 'tis hence we reap Strange, thrilling pleasure, as with living tread. Thus met, we strike life's balance with the dead ! LVIII. Here, with these walls thy preachers, pause, proud man ! Thou thing of nothing, yet presuming all ; And grasping worlds within thy little span : A breath consumes thee ! — as the sere leaves fall Thou fallest, with thy deep digested plan Of wealth, and power ! As on a fiery ball The moth expires, thy grandeur is burnt up. Thy pride abased, and dashed thy pleasure's cup ! 32 THE HELIOTROPE. canto ir. LIX. Poor in thy strength — more lamentably poor In thy presumption !— poorest where the crowd Flatter thee most ! ChafF from the threshing floor Rivals thy riches ! Yet thy boast is loud — Thy port is lofty ! Girt with sordid ore Thou scofPst at heaven ! Like thee, such were the proud Who prospered here, where yet the lava street, That shows their footprints, forms their winding sheet ! LX. Even thou, whopratest of wisdom, what the extent, And depth of thy discerning ? 'Tis to feel The shallows of research, and the high bent Of thy ambition stampt with the dark seal Of mystery ! What, though thy full years be spent In studious toil, what harvest crowns thy zeal ? Nothing ! the boundless ocean spreads before. Whilst thou but gatherest weeds upon its shore ! 43 CANTO n. THE HELIOTROPE. 33 LXI. Lo, Baia's sliore ! Avernus ! Acheron ! — 4.4 Cimmerian Cumee ! — and the Leucrine lake ! — The Sibyl's labyrinth, scooped from livino- stone — Each with its stamp and classic tale that wake Thrilling emotion — conjuring back the tone Of ardent boyhood ! Voices from the brake, The tomb, and temple, greet me : at the sound I start, and find my steps on haunted ground ! LXII. Climbing the rocky steep, the Elysian Fields Lie stretched before ! How oft in Fancy's hour, Led by the Mantuan Bard, whose genius wields The immortal sceptre of poetic power. And gives eternity to all it gilds — Musing alone, in some sequestered bower, Have those bright regions peopled with the blessed. Soothed me with visions of celestial rest ! 34 THE HELIOTROPE. canto ii. LXIII. The song remains — but all unlike the song Those fields! where flowered theamaranth,andspringing Melodious fountains murmured through the long Delicious avenues ! rank weeds are clinging To mouldering tombs ! Yon stagnant pools among, Stalks the lean stork ; here to the desert singing, The bittern broods : and, hissing as ye pass. There, the coiled scorpion glitters in the grass. LXIV. Farther, I trace the steps of him whose thirst Of nature''s mystic lore, made death the price Of his ambition — Pliny ! not the first To pay such forfeit ! — Here, refined .' * vice, His laurels in voluptuous age immersed, — His days to pleasure one long sacrifice, — LucuUus lived to feast and died a fool — The wealthiest vassal of the Apician school. 45 CANTO II. THE HELIOTROPE. 35 LXV. But damp and dreary now the pillared cave, Where, housed, the Aristippus of his time Hoarded the sensual banquet— when the wave Was dragged — earth ransacked — Afric's burning clime Taxed for his table : all that wish could crave Or wealth supply — even with the tools of crime — Glutted his larder ! Oh, by what vile claims, Wealth mounts to fame and spurns at noble names ! LXVI. Weed, brier, and thorn usurp the place of kings ! The toppling arch, and tesselated bath. The prostrate column, the lopt eagle's wings, Whose flight was triumph, block the imperial path ! Time-wasted temples — desecrated springs — Serapis — Phcebus — quailing to the wratli Of foes or ocean's fury — pave the strand Where Bai^ stood — the Sybaris of the land ! 46 d2 36 THE HELIOTROPE, canto ii. LXVII. The pilgrim's bark — the fisher's baited hook — Floats o'er and frets the sunk mosaic floor, Where banqueted those haughty lords who shook An empire with their nod, and lavished ore That would have ransomed kingdoms : every nook Displays its relics ! even the blue sea-shore Sparkles with gems, where, throned on blood and fear ! Rome served her parricide, and charioteer ! 47 LXVIII. But lo, the wave invades his crumbled wall — His palace glimmers through the sunny water ! Combing her sea-green locks in Nero's hall The mermaid weaves her song to Ocean's daughter ! All that had witnessed, all that might recal Those nights of revel, closing days of slaughter, 48 Lie buried — ^not oblivious — where the flood Murmurs of him, whose pastmie was in blood ! CANTO II. THE HELIOTROPE. 37 LXIX. Linternura ! one dilapidated tower — 50 Thy city's landmark ! — leads my steps where he. The prop, yet victim, of his country's power. Lived in lone exile — that he might live free, Albeit forgotten ! Thus, of his last hour, Yon tomb bears record-:—" Loving, serving thee ! Ungrateful Rome ! what crowns my patriot toil ? Long exile ! and a grave in foreign soil !" LXX. Yet, let me linger ! loth to quit the height So dear to young remembrance, and so beaming With what no deeds can dim — ^heaven's holy light. And that bright sky — bright as my fondest dreaming Ere feigned or sighed for ! and with such a night — Such mingled charms along the horizon gleaming — Ischia — Miseno — Baia's bay and hill, And Capri, make the clime Elysian still i 38 THE HELIOTROPE. ganto ii LXXI. At such an hour of yore, the Roman sage Loitered along these chffs, or studious viewed With feeUngs — such as soothe my pilgrimage, — Those scenes and classic solitudes imbued With Homer's genius — all that charmeth age, Or fires the youthful spirit : here renewed That moral strength and manly power, that swept The chords of rhetoric till whole senates wept ! 51 LXXII. And now, Puteoli ! I turn to thee, 52 Whose meanest pavement speaks ; circus and shrine Proclaim the pomp of thine antiquity ! Profusely scattered, as in some rich mine. From old Serapis' columns to the sea Thy gorgeous relics glimmer in the brine : Thy port a prodigy — thy very clay Imperishable, as thine Appian Way ! CANTO II. THE HELIOTROPE. 39 LXXIII. 'Twas here, the mightiest of the Twelve — the man 53 Whose word made tetrarchs tremble — landins; drew The gentile to his standard, and began His Roman work — here met the chosen few Whom heaven disposed to aid the glorious plan Of its high legate — watering as it grew That plant of power which, strengthened by his hand, Soon compassed with its boughs the pagan land ! « # # LXXIV. Heaven's breath is chilled ! The Tramontana's wing 54 Hath scared Favonius ! — nipt the citron's bloom — Shrivelled the blossom in the lap of Spring — And, where it found a garden, leaves a tomb ! Where flowers were sweetest there it loves to fling Unkindly frost, transforming joy to gloom — Pleasure to pain — and, with ungenial breath Where buds were ripening, shedding hues of death ! 40 THE HELIOTROPE. canto u. LXXV. So pale Consumption o'er the young fresh cheek Breathes desolation ! and where hopes were springing — Pledges that seemed of happy days to speak — And round us jocund Health her treasures flinging ! Then forth, like the Simoom fierce and bleak, She hastens — from the bough the blossom wringing ! Her victims still the fairest ! stricken — dying — But on their wasted cheek the rose leaves lying ! LXXVI. Oh, bitter mockery ! Thus life's prospect ends — Like day in blushes ! — Sad, yet edified By that stern preacher Death — less foe than friend I I've watched the night; where she, so late a bride- So soon a widow ! felt that pang which rends Strong hearts ! and saw the husband of her pride, Like a brief shadow from the mountain's belt — Slow vanishing before her where she knelt ! CANTO H. THE HELIOTROPE. 41 LXXVII. For him she crossed yon Alps— for him forsook Home and its joys; Hope's handmaids strewed the way With flowers that seemed to ripen ; Honour shook Her treasures round them : but the brighter day And balmier whispers of the south wind strook No vigour through his frame : still, still Decay Struck deeper — firmer root ; till, sapped at length Each vital source — slow sank his manly strength ! LXXVIII. Then, with a soft calm voice, clasping her hand He blessed her — blessing Heaven for the brief sum Of their endearments ; to its last command He bowed, nor murmured that his hour was come. Save that he left her in the stranger's land, A stranger ! While he spoke, his lips grew dumb, His eyes waxed dim — but still he seemed to speak. And sunrise threw fresh life into his cheek ! 42 THE HELIOTROPE. canto ii. LXXIX. Why wait ye ? Bear the living from the dead — The dead to kindred dust ! And if ye weep — Weep that ye must Uve on, and living shed Fresh tears lamenting him whose tranquil sleep Needeth no sorrow ! for the oil that fed Life's lamp, burnt out, hath called him hence to reap That which the living cannot reap — repose, And bliss — if but oblivion of life's woes ! LXXX. Like a dull stream that purifies by flowing, My thoughts flow onward ; where I following find Health in the change — some fresher tint still glowing In fair prospective ; but man's credulous mind Leans oft on reeds : and I, though all unknowing My future warfare, am not wholly blind To that which must be : — still, from that which is, If spring some drops of balm, I count it bliss ! CANTO II. THE HELIOTROPE. 43 LXXXI. Formed to enjoy — with longings ill repressed — Led by our spirit's law — life's first essay Is happiness ! Still in the future blessed — The past forgot — we give our hearts a prey To expectation ! Happier did we rest — And if not pleased, yet passive ! our brief day Is quickly summed. Then leave thy hopes and sorrow To Him who gives — and may withhold — to-morrow ! LXXXII. Man's best philosophy — life's purest creed — Christian as Epictetic — is : — To bear ss Our yoke unmurmuring ; balance that we need With that which we desire; to bound our prayer To heaven's good pleasure ; make the word and deed Our heart's true mirror; on our breasts to wear Bravely our badge ; and if at last we leave Some trait worth name, what more would )nan achieve ? # # # 44 THE HELIOTROPE. CANTO II. LXXXIII. But hark ! the streets are hushed ! while to and fro Men pass in silence : gathering on the Mole Like statues, mutely grouped, they watch the glow Reflected from the wave ; or muffled stroll Along Chiaja — while denouncing woe Vesuvius vomits flame — and thunders roll ! Can days so beautiful prelude such night, — Such darkness blot the landscape of delight ? LXXXIV. The crater is convulsed ; the lava-stream 56 Boils o'er the brim : beneath, the reddening bay Gleams like a sea of blood : the vesper beam Is blotted from the sky ; — red meteors play Far up the flushed horizon ! — like the dream Of doomsday horrors, closing round their prey — The sky rains ashes, and the electric cloud, Hangs o'er the city, like a funeral shroud ! CANTO II. THE HELIOTROPE. 45 ^ LXXXV. This is no niglit for slumber : and with heart Thrilled by strange sympathies, I take my seat On the felucca's bow : Around me start Electric ripples as the glimmering sheet Of the broad basin, fretted like a chart With fouldering lightnings, slakes the hissing sleet Shot from the mountain ; where with brandished torch Tartarean furies feed the bellowing porch ! LXXXVI. And lo, as if in dread, the Bay is hushed ! But deep reflecting from her breast the fierce And startling conflict ; darkling, and now flushed With crimson streaks, as the fleet lightnings pierce The asphaltic curtain : rocks to atoms crushed — And each a meteor — playfully rehearse Their horrid game ! and from the Thunderer's forge, In midway heaven their scorching hail disgorge. 46 THE HELIOTROPE. canto ii. LXXXVII. Down rush the torrents, flashing as they flow, 57 And, with a force like frantic Scylla's tide. Scathe all before them : forth their channels throw Mephitic vapours, smouldering as they glide, Here the live flame, and there the lurid glow — Till the breach forced anew — the mountain's side Bursts out afresh, and the volcanic shell Explodes in thunder from its native hell ! LXXXVIII. Earth trembles to the shock ! — Again — again The giant groans in agony, and flashes — Such as smote down the " Cities of the Plain" — Like hurtling spears alternate with the crashes Of earth-forged thunder ! — headlong cataracts drain The boiling Acheron, through its bleeding gashes Half flood — half flame — while from the appalling glare Sorrento shrinks, like beauty in despair ! CANTO II. THE HELIOTROPE. 47 LXXXIX. The scene is full of grandeur ! dread — sublime Beyond or speech, or painting ! Who can tell The lava's limits ? Who restrict the time And terrors of the storm ? Hath not its swell Already swept fair cities from the clime, And launched its thunders for their funeral knell ? — The bolts are forged — their fires have not waxed cold, And wait but to revive the woes of old ! XC. Dread sympathy ! strike this electric chain. The summoned hills reply ! Vesuvius calls, JEtna with sudden deluge sweeps the plain ; Dark Strombolo lights his volcanic halls : While, consentaneous, through the secret main, Hecla, invoked, o'erleaps her molten walls ! The train is laid — the thunder knows its path To each dread storehouse, in the day of wrath ! 48 THE HELIOTROPE. canto u. XCI. Dazzlino- his vision as on deck he watches — Mocking the pale lamp, glimmering at his bows, Red meteors gleam — the white brailed canvass catches The sullen sheen — where, muttering as he rows. Oft from his breast the coral fisher snatches The hoarded relic — safeguard from all woes ! While every flash from the volcano's brim, Renews the fervour of his vesper hymn ! 59 XCII. But lo, night wanes ! A hand behind the storm Bridles its rage : that mystic power which bids States spring or perish — yet for the blind worm Secures a path — has quenched yon pyramid's^ Portentous fire — restored to Nature's form Her wonted radiance ; and o'er wakeful lids, Morn breaks with balmy freshness, and a light. Thrice welcome, when it scares such dismal night ! # # * CANTO II. THE HELIOTROPE 49 ^ XCIII. And hark, guitar, and song, and tarantella, go Resume their sway, and rule the laughing hour ! And from the high-bred dame to the donzella, All feel the change, and yield to pleasure's power ! Betwixt Gennaro's shrine and Pulcinella, The crowd divides ! Wreathed wi th his favourite flower This hath his lamps, and that his fame increased, And fears have vanished in the dance and feast ! XCIV. Transition strange ! Yet here 'tis principle ! Familiar grown, Death drops his hideous guise ; In human hearts live passions that can quell Or scorn his terror : woman's love defies — Hate braves it: — Mirth, from horror's passing knell, Bursts like an unstemmed torrent ! Cloudless skies Give cloudless hearts : subdued while dangers last, But gone, returning revels drown the past ! 61 E 50 THE HELIOTROPE. canto n. xcv. How Proteus-like this people ! Every hour Processions pass — masks grin ; — grim death uprears The cross and scutcheon ; while the church's power, Still measured by her vapid pomp, appears In her state livery ! Lo, a bier with flower And foliage wreathed — moist with a mother's tears — Halts 'neath my casement ! 'Tis a lovely child, Dead — but still fresh as if in sleep it smiled ! 62 XCVI. So death beneath the rose-bud loves to smile. And smiling blasts it ! Yet, was ever death So like a cherub's sleep ? or left the while Such hues outliving the departed breath ? Dead, but a few brief hours ! they haste to pile The cold earth on its cheek ! "Who knows if 'neath That roseate tint, life may not linger yet. And be rekindled where it seems to set !" CANTO 11. THE HELIOTROPE. 61 XCVII. Who spoke thoy knew not— but the mourners' look Smiled, with mixed scorn and pity, as he raised The infant's head — chafed its chill hand, and took Some mystic balm, and sprinkled as he gazed. And lo, it moved ; life came by starts ; — it shook Death's garland from its bosom ! All amazed, Exclaimed, "A miracle !" and rushed anon To canonize the seer — but he was gone ! XCVIII. Rescued, the slumberer broke his trance's bond And sprang to life ! The mother shrieked and swooned In her ecstatic joy ! The crowd respond With tears and salutations ! Now her wound Is bathed with balm ! and she so sad — so fond — Hath yet a son ! life's sweetest chords retuned To gladness ! And for Death's lugubrious rite Life, hope, and joy shall be her guests to night ! * ♦ * E 2 52 THE HELIOTROPE. XCIX. CANTO II. Conrad ! the last of Swabia's line — young — brave — By wrongs immortalized ! Oft has thy story 63 Roused indignation's bitter tears ! The glaive Of legal murder never did its gory Office on neck that more had died to save ! Stranger and kinsman envied thee the glory Of thy young martyrdom, and made thy tomb Their pilgrimage — till heaven avenged thy doom ! C. Here where they raise the expiatory rood — An altar on the spot where Conrad fell — The clay still blushes with his guiltless blood ! And pauses the gray Sacristan to tell The tragic tale : — In childless widowhood How his sad mother craved some hallowed cell To keep his ashes ! How they mocked her tears, And how she was avenged in after years ! # # « CANTO II. THE HELIOTROPE. 53 CI. But now the breeze is fair — cross we the brine To Capri ! Yet hath Capri e'er suppUed Shelter to suffering worth ? Have the divine Outpourings of high spirits sanctified Its name and nature ? Have the glorious Nine Left their memorial here ? Or Sappho sighed — Or Maro thundered? No ! its soil is cursed With memory of the bloated guilt it nursed ! CII. Here throned, Tiberius battened on tne spoils 64 Of lust and rapine : here, with rancorous hate And vengeance — blasting as the flood that boils Beneath its caverns — held the thread of fate. And smiled to hurl his victims ''mid the toils Of studied torture ! — blood his game of state Assassins for his guests — and fiends on watch With murder's zest to heighten the debauch ! i 54 THE HELIOTROPE. rxNTO ii cm. But Mercy hath avenged her wrongs, and Peace Rebuilt her shrine. Here — if thou lovest a clime Where health may flourish — rankling care decrease — And beauteous Nature smooth thy stream of time — Here, in Campania's Aprosapolis, 65 Repose ! and feast thy soul with scene sublime- Here, in thy concentrating gaze, condense All earth's delights — all heaven's magnificence ! CIV. The sunbeam shall not smite thee, for the sea Tempers its fervor ; winter's kindly ray Shall never chill thee, for the myrtle-tree, Pomegranate, palm and citron, shade the bay With fruit and foliage ; Nature's face shall be Thy book and mirror; one long summer day Thy life ; and, when at last thou takest thy rest. Unfading Spring shall fold thee in her breast ! CANTO u. THE HELIOTROPE. 55 CV. But ye who, having suffered, best can tell, — Say, if the mourner here hath sorrowed less ? If hearts revived that long had bid farewell To health, and health's delights, if loveliness Hath conjured back her bloom ? recalled the spell Of Beauty's heritage ? Ye answer, " Yes ! We asked the clime of Phoebus — not his Art — Those scenes that, while they soothe, exalt the heart P' CVI. Nature ! how fondly have I worshipped thee ! /' Thy haunted shades my childhood's first delight I Still gathering joy from each new mystery That flashed in fascination on my sight ! : Thy lights and shadows — forests — lakes and sea — f Heaven's starry pavement — blending day and night— 1 Thy voice my watchword, from the choral hymn Of vernal groves to the volcano's brim ! ', 56 THE HELIOTROPE. ~ canto ii. CVII. Wondrous in working — in her wildest freaks, What mystic powers irradiate Nature's form J Whether in thunder or in song she speaks — SmiUng in sunshine, or arrayed in storm — Whether in her deep breast new toil she seeks. To mould a world — or animate a worm ! — Through every change, I hear her welcome voice That woos me to her breast and says — Rejoice ! # # # CVIII. Dread Possidone ! landmark of the past — 66 Sole guardian of a nation's ashes ! How I shrink into myself, to feel at last My foot within thy circle ! Where thy brow — Wrinkled with half the world's round years — hath cast Its spell around me ! Melancholy thou — But throned in majesty — proclaimest a race Whose glory raised thee for its dwelling place ! CANTO ir. THE HELIOTROPE. 57 CJX. Temple and tomb — a Balbeck on the chart / Of old renown ! Struck with mysterious awe I pace thy pillared avenues, and start Half doubtful, if the atmosphere I draw Be earth's, and these the triumphs of man's art ! Art thou amenable to milder law Than Nature's common doom ? that thus thy form For twice twelve centuries braves the bolt and storm ! ex. Colossus of the waste ! Proud combination Of strength and beauty ! Pointing to the time When they, who raised thee for their adoration, 67 Arose to found their empire in thy clime ! Prospered and passed — but left thee, in thy station Firm balanced — for their monument sublime • That doom which swept a nation from thy base, Enhanced thy grandeur's melancholy gryce ! .58 THE HELIOTROPE. canto ii. CXI. It left thee mutually of gods and men The immortal chronicle ! by these achieved — To those devoted — in an era when Men emulated gods — like theirs believed Their own brief sway eternal ! Now the fen And bulrush forest hide the soil that heaved With their proud cities ! Such the ephemeral frame Of mortal tenure, where man builds his fame ! CXII. How are the mighty fallen ! A lifeless waste 68 Limits the horizon ! And, where fields were fertile, And fragrant harvests waved — and beauty graced Thy plain crowned with the Psestan rose and myrtle ! — Broods noisome pestilence, and sullen-paced Browse the wild buffaloes ! In motley kirtle The sibyl haunts my steps; and, gazing back, The hovering bandit pounces on my track ! 69 # # # CANTO II. THE HELIOTROPE. 59 CXIII. Sorrento ! while the hot sirocco blows 70 And breathes exhaustion o'er each limb and look ; Here, in thy citron groves, let me repose And lay me panting by the murmuring brook ! Here, while abroad the summer solstice glows, Be thou my nurse — lapt in some flowery nook With vista to the bay ! — no sweeter scene Twixt Hadria's billows and thy blue Tyn-hene ! CXIV. And lo, Night's shadows span the bay ! while beaming With all its mirrored stars, the tranquil blue Of ocean slumbers : field and flower are teeming With summer's balm, and bright with falling dew. Sweet voices are abroad : the air is gleaming With winged and fiery spangles — strange to view ! From every leaf electric sparks are glancing, 71 Where swift the firefly's twinkling troop are dancing. 60 THE HELIOTROPE. cxv. CANTO II. And, faithful to the hour, as stars that muster In nightly phalanx round heaven's shining camp — Beneath yon palm — bright with unborrowed lustre The glow-worm kindles her connubial lamp — 72 Love's mimic cynosure ! What feelings cluster Within thy magic atmosphere, and stamp Thy being with the joys, and fears, of earth ! Thy torch the symbol of domestic hearth ! CXVI. Like thine, the watch-light of devoted love Brightens with darkness — holiest where retired ! Of peace enamoured, thus the mated dove Contrives her nest, by gentle love inspired : Thus souls congenial taste delights above Earth's boasted bliss : and thus, my heart's admired ! Be thine the glow-worm's lamp — the dove's retreat — And mine to whisper — Solitude is sweet ! CANTO II. THE HELIOTROPE. 61 CXVII. But from tlie wanderer distant far art thou ! Yet these I waft thee on Affection's wino- ! While I must linger — as I linger now — Longing for those bright looks that wont to bring More joy to me, than to the winter bough The leaves, and blossomed livery of Spring ! For here, though paradise surrounds my grot — 'Tis still a wilderness, where thou art not ! CXVII I. But here I pause ; my lyre is cast aside ; To tell, with hopes deferred, the languid hour ! Little it recks, though colder hearts may chide The lay that soothes me in Sorrento''s bower. 73 If still with me thy'love and smile abide,| These are my fame ! — thy pilgrim's richest dower ! But these denied — though heaven inspired his reed And thousands praised — the bard were poor indeed ! 62 THE HELIOTROPE. canto ii. CXIX. And wilt thou prize what speaks to thee of him Whose love for thee o'er every ill prevailing Still gathers fervour, as his day grows dim, And strengthens, as the strength of life is failing ? And wilt thou pray life's guardian seraphim To chase the blight his summer morn assailing ? Yes ! — moved by thee, its balm shall heaven bestow. And lengthen what thy love hath sweetened so ! * * * CXX. Remnant of that bright sphere our fathers lost— Our being's sunshine— intellectual Mind ! Man's solace, and yet sorrow — bane, yet boast ! Giving him wings to soar above his kind — Hope in his hopelessness — comfort when crossed In worldly prospect ! Yet, where most refined — Most quickened to perceptions exquisite — How far the pains o'erbalance the delight ! CANTO n. THE HELIOTROPE. 63 CXXl. Albeit, 'tis sweet to feel the soul expanding — Through doubts and darkness, clearly to discern Truths loved and longed for ! and with grasp commanding The mines of science — learn, all man may leam, Of earth and heaven — that all how little ! Standing On Fame's ambitious height, is but to yearn For that which is beyond— some fatuous star Still lures — and still misleads — thee from afar ! CXXII. While living, chilled : half deified, when gone : Through life uncheered — neglected, and denied Man's common courtesy ! — how has the tone Of harps, heaven-strung, in bitter murmurs died ! But dead — mock gratitude decrees a stone To mark the spot the minstrel sanctified ! Upbraiding his cold ashes with a fame That hath outlived all longing for a name ! 64 THE HELIOTROPE. canto n. CXXIII. Man's feelings, like his features, are a part Of his peculiar frame : each hath its springs That lock or loose the fountains of the heart — Each power to check or give the spirit wings — And all their limits ! Wedded to his art, And vainly rash, the bard may sweep the strings — But, save where heaven the votive chord hath fanned. What discord wakes to his adventurous hand ! CXXIV, That which hath cost him days — perchance of pain, And wakeful nights — nay, waste of life — shall seem. To the cold world, born of a morbid brain — A thriftless song ! Yet, blameless if his theme, The suffrage meant to sink, may save the strain ! The world's opinion, like the Nubian stream, 74 Flows party-channelled, — but to him who knows To persevere — at length united flows ! tAMO II. THE HELlOrRUPi:. 65 CXXVi. Amid the world's crossways, the bristUng thorns That wound the gentle — stimulate the bold : Frowns that would freeze warm hearts the intrepid scorns- Content, by arduous struggle, as of old. To earn his fame. The light of life, like morn's, With various power impregnates the dull mould : And blasts, which give the forest firmer root, Will strip the vine, and bhght the tropic's fruit. CXXVII. Art thou of Phcfibus ? Shrink not from the proof ! Glows thy young heart with inspiration's fire ? Improve the gift ! Stand firm — but stand aloof From all that would degrade the glorious lyre ! So minister in Virtue's high behoof! Through Nature's mystic workings still aspire To Nature's Source ! — Thus shalt thou subtilize Thy song and, rising, teach man's soul to rise ! * * # 66 THE HELIOTROPE. UANTO II. CXXVIII. But thou, Hygeia, whom the most I seek — Thou, of the rosy lip and sunny brow ! Hast thou no gift to glad my cheerless cheek, But dost forsake me like a sapless bough ? Where shall I next thy partial smile bespeak ? — Where, to ray fainting step and fruitless vow, Wilt thou be found — a more propitious power — In isles of Hellas, or Sicilian bower ? CXXIX. Twined with this mortal woof. Care mounts the car — The bark — the breeze ; — and, crossing Alps and sea, Walks by my side ; — obscures the brightest star With ominous spots ; — from Pleasure's vernal tree Shakes off the blossom ! Yet, sweet hours there are When — like a captive bird, the heart set free— And nature, poured like music on the mind — Son'ow, so long my comrade, lags behind ! — CANTO II. THE HELIOTROPE. 67 CXXX. Choose as thou wilt ; or wealth or fame pursue— Gird on the glaive— fly with the winged mast ! The phantom mocks, yet fascinates, thy view ! — Lookest thou for sunshine ? Lo, the starthng blast Bursts o'er thy head ! That peace thy fancy drew Lives not on earth : the future, like the past, Will still present its portion of alloy — And furnish sorrow where it promised joy ! CXXXI. 'Tis well — I murmur not — nor to repine Hath my creed schooled me. How should I forget The health, and hope, and joy that have been mine ! Earth's sweetest bonds dissolve — there is a debt All flesh must pay ! Ere perfect day can shine, Life, like the natural sun, must wane and set — Waiting the dawn ! The youngest, fairest shoot Blooms but in death — the axe is at the root ! F 2 ^^ THE HKLIOTKOPE. cANioii, CXXXll. 'Tis well for man his destinies decree ^ A day of ransom ! What a toil were life If his ambition only were — To be ! And be, by turns, the butt or tool of strife — The dupe of hollow hearts, whose perfidy Strikes deadlier pang than the assassin's knife- Beware ! — and, seasoning candour with distrust. Learn worldly lore, and to thyself be just ! CXXXllI. Life's brevity is Nature's kindest boon : Made mortal, that immortal life may come — So thou dost well, what boots it thee how soon Fate's welcome summons calls the wanderer home ? Yet, dost thou sigh o'er youth's beclouded noon? Alas, woes wait on all who farther roam I Fresh tempests brood, and heaven's blue face deform, But he who soundly sleeps, escapes the storm ! CANTO II. THE HF.I.IOTTIOPK. 69 CXXXIV. Life's first — youth's dearest — ties, where are ye? Gone The last dark voyage — never to return ! But where I follow. — Ye have left me lone To mourn, yet envy, your untimely urn ! But 'mid yon planetary worlds is one Where death-divided hearts, rekindled, burn ! This — this is balm ! the hope we there shall meet Souls that life's bitter draught made doubly sweet ! (XXXV. I would not rob my soul of that fond thought. For all the realms that crowned the conquering Mede ! Rashly and vain 'gainst reason have they wrought. Who sap — self-blinded casuists — Nature's creed ! The first, firm truth by heaven's own spirit taught. And life's best balm — when balm it most doth need ! The pilgrim's pharos through a stormy world — His buckler when the bolt of Death is hurled ! 70 THE HELIOTROPE. CXXXVI. CANTO 11. Enough, 'tis midnight — night without a cloud ! Salerno''s promontory — isle and creek — And Somma, by the lava-torrent ploughed — Baiae, and Procida's volcanic peak Seem strewn with pearls ! and with a voice endowed That scares repose : — in other tongues they speak — 'Tis meet that I should pause who long to earn Of Nature's lore — and have so much to learn ! END OF CANTO SECOND. i' HYMN TO THE VIRGIN. LINES TO A SICILIAN AIR. CHARYBDIS. HYMN TO THE VIRGIN. SALERNKSK AIR. Vo solcando un mar crudele Senza vele, E senza sarte : Freme I'onda, il ciel s'irabruna, Cresce il vento, e manca I'arte.— Mbtast. Ave, Maria ! glory's Queen ! Our loadstar and defender — Homage to thee, on shore and sea Our grateful spirits render ! — To thee — who guidest the fisher's bark, And lead'st the wildered stranger, When all behind is drear and dark, And all before is danger : — Chorus— With fervent vow to thee we bow, The Friend that never faileth ! When storms appear thou still art near To succour him that saileth ! 74 VESPER HYMN. Our wives are watching on the shore ; Our children call their fathers ; They quake to hear the tempest roar And tremble as it gathers ! The leven flashes on our bows — Yon mountain, rent asunder, Writhes like a giant in his throes, And weeps in molten thunder I Chorus. — To thee, to thee we bow the knee, Our Friend that never faileth — In stormy sky thou still art nigh, To succour him that saileth ! No lingering star illumes our path, The night scowls drear and drearer ! But smihng through the tempest's wrath We know that Thou art nearer ! We know our wives and children keep Their fast before thine iMtar : — Thou wilt not leave their eyes to weep. Their faithful hearts to falter ! Chorus. — To thee — to thee they bow the knee ! Their Friend who never faileth. When tempests sweep the yawing deep To succour him that saileth. VESPER HYMN. /O • Ave, Maria ! glorious Star! ^ Where midnight horrors muster — Thou givest the moon her silver car, The sky its holy lustre ! At thy behest the billows roar. At thy command they slumber ! Oh, softly guide our helm ashore, Whom night and storm encumber ! Chorus. — With fervent vow to thee we bow — The Friend that never faileth. When tempests sweep the foaming deep, To succour him that saileth ! LINES, TO A SICILIAN AIR. Round my Rosalie's bovver, To pleasure my fairest — I'll plant every flower That is sweetest and rarest : To wreathe thy bright hair Fresh oarlands I'll bring; thee — And the nightingale there To slumber shall sing thee ! From the first ray of morn, When the day-star is waking ; Till the moon's silver horn Over Hybla is breaking — And the birds from the boughs Wake their melodies o'er me — Thy name's in my vows — Thy sweet image before me ! Then as onward I roam Through the deep forest darkhng- Sweet — sweet is my home With its lattice-light sparkling ! And bright stars above — But the star that is clearest Is the sianet of love — The dark eye ot my dearest ! CHARYBDIS. Dextrum Scyila latiis, Isevum implacata Churybdis , . Tres Notus abreptas in saxa lateiitia torquet .... .... ast illam te>\fiuctiis ibidem 'J'urquet agcns circutn, ct rapidus loriit aqtiore nortex. 'Tis the vesper hour — the leaf and flower Are strewn with sparkling pearls : Ye hear but the groan from iEtna's cone — Or the Zephyr's wing in the bowers of spring, And the wave where it crisps and whirls ! 2 Round the crater's rim, clouds flash and skim; But hark, in Ste. Mergylla The hymn is hushed — the crowd has rushed From the sanctuary- -for " See, oh ! see — A ship's in the jaws of Scyila !" 78 CHARYBDIS. 8 A reckless bark, 'twixt light and dark, O'er the rapid wave is bounding ! No oar is wet, no sail is set, Yet her speed outstrips the strong-winged ships In the channel that knows no sounding ! 4 Hark ! from her deck, loud voices break " Mixed rage, despair, and rancour ! For now they discern, from stem to stern. Their headlong course, aud with frantic force Unship the plunging anchor ! The capstan glows — down, down it goes — Where anchor ne'er found pillow ! Yet Hope half streaks their bloodless cheeks — 'Tis brief — 'tis vain ! The strong bower-chain Has snapt like a sapless willow ! CHARYBDIS. 79 r* " On — on she goes, with her dashing bows — God help thee in thy danger ! None here — none here — can stay thy career ! Yon eddies boil to gorge their spoil — God help thee ! reckless stranger!" 7 The boats unslung — to their oars they sprung — One faint last hope to rally ; But no more — no more — shall they weather the shore ! For the boat they urge^-to the yawning surge Flies swifter than the galley ! Their strength has shrunk — their bold hearts sunk ! A dismal doom hangs o'er them ! They fly in a track where no ship can tack ! — Above and below, are the shrieks of woe ! And a fathomless gulf before them ! 80 CHARYBDIS. To the earth — to the sky — in their agony, Their farewell looks they lifted ! But here despair — destruction there — Thro' the deepening gloom with the voice of doom- Pursued them as they drifted ! 10 There, in foamy whirls ('haryhdis curls — Loud Scylla roars to larboard ! In that howling gulf, with the dog and wolf,* Deep moored to night, with her living freight, That goodly ship is harboured ! * See Mythology. Ovid and other poets have painted Scylla with dogs onlyj but Virgil has heightened the portrait by the addition of wolves. Feris atram ciinibiis succingitur alvum, &c. — Ov. Met. lib. xiii. .... Delphiuum caudas utero commissa luporiim. — Virg. Myi. iii. The ebb and flood in this Strait are very irregular and strong ; and, where it is narrowest, extremely impetuous, so that there is no stemming the tides when the wind blows strong from the southirard. At this period ships are often caught in the eddies — whirled about with the greatest rapidity, and not imfrequeutly lost. Under other circumstances the Strait is so smooth that the smallest boat may navigate it with safety. NOTES TO CANTO II. Sage laws — paternal sway. Tliese are expressly applicable to Tuscany in the present day ; nowhere are the affairs of government conducted with greater mild- ness. The happiness and prosperity of the people are become prover- bial — their country is the " political oasis, of Italy." 3. And baffied Turnus battles for his bride ! Vicisti : et victum tendere palmas Ausonii videre : tua est Lavinia conjxix. 4-5. Exclaim with patriot pride — These — these are ours! Such is the language of the modern Roman, whenever the con- versation turns upon the ancient glory of his country, contrasted with its present divisions, jealousies, and church despotism. SonRomano to ! So often retorted upon the suspicious traveller, seems almost a builesque upon that once proud title — but it is a spark which shews that the fire, though stifled, is not quite extinct.— GZ' Italiani commindano anch' essi a pensare ! 6. Syrtis — Charybdis. Perque procellosas Syrtes, per saxa Ma!eae . . Tumidis torta Charybdis, &c. G 88 NOTES TO CANTO II. 7. " Concord." — Tlie temple of Concokd in Rome is still one of her most imposing relics. 8. Distant yet not dim The eternal city glimmers from her hills. To an eye accustomed to contemplate prospects through a vaporous sky, nothing can be more pleasing than the extreme purity of the atmosphere, and the distinct appearance of remote objects in this climate. 9. Causeivat/s that drain the distant hills in Rome. These aqueducts are, beyond all others, the most stupendous monuments of Roman architecture — such as at first sight fix the at- tention, and excite the astonishment, of every traveller. The aque- duct which forms the allusion in the text, is that seen to greatest advantage from the Esplanade of the Lateran, about sunset. 10. No Tnlly fulmines in her forum now. " Fulmined over Greece." — " Eloquii fulmen." 11. Procida. Prochyta of the ancients. (The modern pronunciation of this — Protch-ida — with a host of others, seem to start a fresh subject for philologists on the chi, Latin — ci, Italian — and %> Greek). With regard to the natural beauties of this island, no Roman of the present day at least, but willingly subscribes to the predilection of Juvenal. Vel ego Prochytain prcepono Sahurre! Ischia. The ancient Inarime. Typhseus's prison ; but the fire of whose eyes, like the volcano, has been long extinct. Berkely, Bishop NOTES TO CANTO 11, 83 of Cloyne, often declared that the happiest summer he ever enjoyed \vas in this island, which lie called an epitome of the earth. Nisita. In front of this fairy islet the pilgrim performs quarantine — anciently Nesis. See Lucan, vi. — go. Emit til, 4c. 12. Syren of the sea. Vide ViRG. Gecko, iv. v. 564. Homer Od. 12. Strab. i — v. 13. Tasso's Muse. His birth-place ; the scene of his happiest hours. See his Life, by Roscoe. 14. Look but on Naples, say her bards, and die. The view from the Gulf of Naples is unrivalled — even by that on the Bosphorus. It has one decided advantage over Byzantium, in the extraordinary character of its mountains, among which, Vesuvius is a feature of intense interest. The pilgrim who rides his first quarantine off Naples, enjoys a fascinating panorama of those ancient localities which take such powerful hold of the imagination. The proverbs alluded to are well known : " Un pezzo di cielo caduto in terra /" '' Vede Napoli e mori .'" 15. This electric soil. This is abundantly evident both in the natural and moral soil. See a book of travels. 16. . . . . And simmering the broad bay Heaves o^er a forge. The basin or gulf is supposed to have been, and is still called, the crater. g2 84 NOTES JO CANTO II. For illustration of the text, see — or read the history of Nero^s Baths —wood near the Avernus and Solfatara. In the latter, a stick thrust into the soil, or rather cmst, where I stood, caught fire ; and, for the benefit of my shoemaker, and a rather unseasonable gratifica- tion of curiosity, I made similar observations, though more sensibly felt, in an ascent of Vesuvius. Ladies would do well in similar enterprises to line their chaussure with asbestos. 17. Here, in their beds of lava, cities sleep ! Namely, Herculaneum, Pompeii, Stabia, &c. 18. Capuchins — preaching friars, &c. 19. Illuminated J olio, kc. As objection may be taken to this homely simile, I must state — if in apology — that I yet know of nothing that to my own mind conveys so correct an idea of the brilliancy of colourmg and the rich variety which emblazon and peculiarize the evening picture here attempted. It was the first idea that struck the writer as a spectator. 20. . . . The Improvisatore, &c. This imposing personage, as some may regret to hear^ is much less frequent, though not less attractive, than in former yeai's. This peripatatic poet, wit, and commentator on Tasso, has lost half his audience on the !M61e ; the preaching friar is in a still worse predica- ment ; and even Pulcinello has experienced a defalcation in his revenue.* * " Chang:e of Air," by Dr. Johnson. NOTES TO CANTO II. 8.5 21. Where their sepulchres rise by the sea. For an account of these tombs see Memoria di un antico Sepol- creto Greco-Romanu, da Lorenzo Giustiniani. 22. Sweet Posilippo ! (Magni tumulis adcanto magistri !) apparently diro Ttjg iravtreuQ TTiQ \vTrt)Q — or " Sorrow's rest," as the etymon would import. A title conferred upon it by its primitive colonists, who, having made trial of its soil and climate, laid down their burdens and took up their abodes on its shore. 2.3. Who sleeps beloxo t Mantua me genuit : Calabri rapuere : tenet nunc Parthenope. Cecini Pascua, llura, Duces. Tunc sacrum felix aluisti, Terra, Maronem Tunc pio celas ossa beato sinu ? Anne etiam, ut fama est, Vatis placidissima saepe Inter odoratum cemitur umbra neraus ? 24. . . . . Here Boccacioj'or the Lyre Renounced the tvorld ! See his life. — Lives of the Italian Poets. 25. ■ . She whose bier Was the unboivelled mountain. Pompeia! (Pompeii, or Pompeia.) This subject has become so familiarized to every class of readers, that it would be superfluous, if 86 NOTES TO CANTO II. not presumptuous, to extend my notes beyond the immediate allusions in the text. I may add, however, that my observations were made on the spot, wliich I have attempted — however inadequately — to describe ; and further, that I know of no other scene, or spectacle, that takes such immediate and entire hold of the mind and imagina- tion; and which no change, nor circumstance, of afterlife can ever obliterate. Let him, who travels for excitement, visit Pompeii by moonlight, and view an eruption of \'esuvius from the bay at midnight ! 26. Sarno's tortured tide, &c. The sympathy here alluded to has been uniform and remarkable in all eruptions. See particularly those of 1631 and 1698 ; also Parrini and Boccone, who adduce some remarkable facts on this subject. 27. Upwards of twenty human skeletons were found in the cellar of a house near the gate, and opposite that (an inn) marked with the Salve of welcome, seven skeletons : the first carried a lamp, and of the others, each retained betwixt its bony fingers something which it had wished to preserve. 28. In 1812, among other exhumations, a skeleton was found near the Tragic Theatre, with a purse in its grasp containing, I am informed, eight pieces of gold, three hundred and sixty of silver, and forty-two of bronze ; the purse of cloth, and still maintaining its precious deposit in due form ! 29. Their city a vast sepulchre, their hearth A charnel house. Dio informs us, lib. Ixvi., that the inhabitants were surprised by the eruption, while the circus was crowded with spectators. This is dis- AOTES TO CANTO II. 87 puted ; but I perfectly agree with Dr. James Johnson, that the skele- tons already discovered constitute a very small proportion of those who • actually perished. Little more than an eighth part of the city is yet excavated I How much, therefore, remains to unriddle the mystery that hangs over its last awful struggles ! * 30. The marks of wine-cups are still visible on the marble counter. 31. There is no exaggeration in the text — there lie the materials half finished, and in various stages of their progress, as they were originally placed for his operations, and as they were left by the last workman, 1700 years ago. 32. Isis' shrine. As described in the text. Close to the cella of this temple, a skeleton was discovered. The sacred vessels, lamps and tables, though removed, are still shown at the Museo. 33. Hollowed by the rolling car. The tracks of the wheels which anciently rolled over the pavement, have a powerful effect in conjuring back the past — the busy mul- titude that once thronged the now silent thoroughfare. 34. . . Door, writ with the name of its last tenatit. This I remarked in several instances. The scribblings and drawings of the soldiers on the walls of their barracks are quite distinct. * By a letter just received from Pompeii, (Feb.) I am gratified to learn tliat the excavations ai-e proceeding, though at intervals, with more than ordinary decision. 88 JfOTES TO CANTO II. 35. EUMACHIA. I have met with nothing in sculpture more beautifiil than this : there is a fascination in the features and expression, heightened no doubt by the circumstances of the place, which to my fancy surpasses even the presiding di\anity in the Tribunal at Florence ; but this opinion is no authority. The arrangement of the drapery displays exquisite taste and execution. 36-7. Street of Sepulchres. Beyond the gate. The tomb of the priestess Mammia is remark- able. Here are still preserved undisturbed the ancient family urns and ashes, on small altars within the monuments ; externally are the broken masks. 38. If 'twixt the seething lava and the shower, &c. Pompeia, as the reader well knows, was buried by showers oi ashes— Herculaneum overwhelmed by torrents of boiling lava. The former compai-atively, offers but little obstruction to the labourer ; but the latter, having insinuated itself in the consistence of molten lead, into every crevice, and become indurated like marble, requires the skill and perseverance of a miner to dislodge it, and that by very slow degrees. 39. Some cursing called their gods. See Pliny's description of Pompeia's last day. — Many called on the gods for assistance^ others despaired of the existence of the gods, Sec. 40-1. The lofty circus vault and corridor. This theatre was one of the most perfect specimens of ancient architecture. It was capable of containing from three thousand to JV'OTES TO CANTO II. 89 four thousand spectators : — nearly the whole of its surface— as well as the arched corridor leading to the seats, was cased with marble, and the area floored with massive squares of precious giallo-aviico. 41. And last he led me to a busty whereon, &c. Upon whatever plausible grounds the antiquarian, or other learned annotator, may dispute this point, they can adduce no proof to over- throw the popular belief. There is nothing in the whole collection which makes so forcible an appeal to the heart and the imagination as this. 42. What city hath returned to earth again ? In this respect these cities stand awful and solitary monuments. The finest pulpits in the world for homilies on the instability of human glory ! 43. " Like a child gatliering pebbles on the shore." — Sir Isaac Newton. 44. Varia circum oblectamina vitae . . . blandissima littora, Baias. — Stat. Littus beata) aureum veneris ! Baise superbae blanda dona naturae. — Mart. Cimmerian Cuma. Ev5a ^£ Kinfitpeujv avSpdv Stjfiog n noXiQ n 'TA'spi Kal vi(p't\r} KtKaXvfifiivat ovSe Tror'avrovg 'HlXtoc (pasOiov iiriSepKtrat aKTiverrmv, &c,&c. Acheron. — 'See ancient classics. AvERNUS. — " Stagna inter celebvem nunc mitia." Such is its character at the present moment. 90 NOTES TO CANTO II. Elysian Fields. Devenere locos laetos et amcena vireta Forlunatorum nemorura, sedesque beatas. SibyVs Grotto. — At the time I penetrated the recesses of this laby- rinth, the bottom was covered to a considerable depth with stagnant water : and though mounted on the shoulders of a sturdy lazzaroni, still it is not an experiment to be recommended— to invalids at least. Pliny. , . . Ubidies redditus, corpus inventura est integrum . . . Habitus corporis quiescent!, quam defuntto similior. 45. LUCULLUS. For particulars vide Plutarch, in LucuU. This prince of choice spirits had other villas of equal, but various, magnificence — changing his residence with the storks and cranes. He purchased the villa of Marius alone for a sum equal to eighty thousand pounds sterling. His Villa Misenensis (transformed into a monastery A. D. 488) was unrivalled for its site and artificial embellishments. . . . Monte summo posita LucuUi manu, Prospedat Siculum et prospicitTmcxxm mare. 46. Syharis. Vide history of that luxurious city. 47-8. Nero. . . . Parricide and charioteer. For illustration of the latter vide Tacit. Annal. lib. xiv. s. 14. For that of the iorm&x vide ibid., sect. 4 — 10. 50. LiNTERNUM. Torre di Patria. Here Scipio Afiricanus retired to voluntary exile. The torre is the only vestige of the city as well as of Scipio — the epi- taph is universally known. NOTES TO CANTO U. 91 Ingrata Patria, ne quidem ossa mea habes. See the eloquent declamation of Seneca (Epist. Ixxxvi.) also Liv. ^ lib. xxxviii. 53. 51. Cicero. " Romani fama decusque fori." " Eloquii fulinen." See his orations passim. Here in his villa of Puteolanum Cicero composed his Aca- demic Questions. 52. Puteoli. Pozzuoli. — See Senec. Nat. Quaest. lib. iii. c. 20. Plin. lib. xxxv. c. 13. (:Cuis enim satis m\\e\.\xv pessimavi ejus (terrae) partem lAeo^n^ pulverem appellatum in Puteolanis, collihus opponi maris fiuctibus mersumque protinus fieri lapidem. inexpuynahilem undis, et fortiorem quolidie. Here the Via Appia terminates, and exhibits, in various points, its ancient indestructibility. On the beach I gathered various fragments of precious mosaic, throvraup by the sea. The Diiomo (anciently the temple of Antinous I) and temple of Jupiter Serapis, are the objects alluded to in the text. 53. Mightiest of the Twelve. See Acts Apostles, c. xxviii. 54. Tramontana. See Note 2—27, Canto First. 55. Marl's purest creed, Christian as Epictetic. Fide Summary of Epictetus's creed. Avex^i xai ansxa. 56. A volcano, says Eustace, is the most tremendous phenomenon pre- sented to the eyes of mortals. All the agitation of earthquakes— all 92 NOTES TO CANTO 11. the crash of thunders — all the horrors of darkness — all the blaze of lightnings — and all the rage of conflagration — ^are united and armed with tenfold terror in an eruption. Its appearance and effects seem not to announce the arm of the Almighty extended to chastise and correct at the same time ; but resemble the rage of demons broke loose from their prison, armed with the flames of hell to disfigure nature and to ravage the creation. (See also Plin. jun. lib. vi. Epist. 20.) Every thing contributes to fill the mind with the most awful satisfaction. Beyond doubt one of the most grand and terrific which nature presents, and af- fords an eujoyment which I have nu power to describe. — Horsfield. o7. ITie eruptions of Vesuvius are more striking than those of /Etna, in as much as the former are more within the scope of observation — and rarely burst but with the probability of destruction to human life and habitations. Vesuvius, A. D. 473, covered, according to Marcell. Comes, all Europe with its ashes. " Nocturnisque in die tenebris : omnem Europam faciem minuto contegit pulvere." But on this subject see any book of travels — more particularly Sir W. Hamilton's account. As the best position for a silent contemplation of the scene (when such a scene presents itself!) Iwould recommend that off the Castel del' Uovo — and about a mile out on the bay. But if the modem Plin^ be withal an invalid, let him act accordingly and by advice — it is a scene that will amply repay him for every inconvenience but dangerous illness. Furies, Sfc. — See Dion Cassius, lib. xvi. 58. Dread Sympathy. Stanza xc The subterraneous communications, and simultaneous agitation of these Phlegreean storehouses, are not the least remarkable part of their histoiy — the sympathy between Vesuvius and Solfatara is strikingly so. 59. Vesper Hymn. See the hymn appended to this canto. NOTES TO CANTO II. 93 CO. Tarantella — the national dance. Thunderer's Forge, by an inscription at Capua {vide Parini) Vesu- vius appears to have been consecrated to Jupiter Tonaiis, viz., Jovi . Vesuvio . Sacrum, D. D. 61. Returning Revels. — This was never more remarkable than in the great eruption of 1707; when the people flocking out of the town to see the fiery torrent from the mountain, and observing that it began to harden, abandoned themselves to tlie grossest Inpercalia. The generality here, says an old traveller, are like sailors, who never think of heaven or hell but in imminent danger ; and, as soon as that is over, return to their former wicked practices. St. Gennaro, it is well known, has a patent for locking up or ar- resting the lava at any given point. (See the inscription to this saint.) It is quite evident that their critical locality on the immediate confines of two worlds — brimstone and boiling lava ! causes no disquietude to these happy people. "Dum vivimus, vi'vamw* .'" is the watchword. But one step, truly, from the most awfully sublime to the contemptibly ridiculous — from the doomsday thunders of an eruption to the festive squeaks of Pulcinello. 62. Dead but a few brief hours. — It is lamentable that so many cases of premature interment should be daily hazarded in obedience to the law on this subject. I need hardly add that the stranger who made himself available in the present instance, was not an Asclepiades. Over-hasty interments, as we learn from Pliny, liist. Nat. 1. xxvi. c. 3, were not uncommon among the ancients. NV as it not the deplorable misfortune of Duns Scotus ? Who has not heard of the Norman lord Louis de Cirille — the thrice buried ? It is" matter of concern that real narratives of this kind should be obscured and brought into disrepute by other absurd fictions. Visiting, a few days since, the 94 NOTES TO CANTO II. church of S. Giovanni Pappacodi, I learnt that the founder Pappacodi was buried in a fit, and came to life again. A relation, on advice of his death, coming post to town, three days after the funeral, ordered the disinterment, and found that the deceased had bruised himself by- struggling, and entirely altered his posture. 63. Conrad. See the history of the time, 1269. — Charles deshonora sa victoire par les cruautes qu'il exer^a sur les vaincus .... la plus memorable victime qu'il immola a sa vengeance, fut I'infortune Conradin — dernier rejeton de la maison de Souabe . . il monta sur I'echafaud . . les seuls mots qu'il prononca furent ceux-ci; O ma pauvre mere ! quelle douleur sera la tienne ! On pretend que la terre imbibee de son sang, en conserve les traces .... qu'on y remarque un endroit humide, qui est comme une tache, qu'on ne voit ailleurs. . . . Hist. Repub. Ital. 64. Tiberius. Quern rnpes Capreanim tetra latehit Incesto possessa Seni? — Claud, de iv. Cons. Hor. See Tacit. Annal. lib. xii. — xx. He may be truly said to have realized Btoc KVKXwniiog — quae neque legibus, neque disciplina civili constet, neque religione deorum gubernetur. 65. Aprosapolis.— The name given by Augustus, as characteristic of this delicious spot. " La douceur de I'air qui regne dans toute la Cam- pagne Felice, se fait encore plus sentir id— c' est la patrie des Zephyrs ! J'ai ambitionne (says the Abbe Coyer) le sort d'un voyageur Anglais qui enchante du local, et du cliraat, a fini les tous ses voyages en eta- blissant dans une jolie maison." There is not, however, at present, I understand, any English traveller so agreeably lodged. I need not add that the description in the text falls far short of the locality. NOTES TO CANTO II. 95 66-9. Possidom. r" Pcesidonia, Puestum. — For nine centuries these ruins, though pro- bably not unknown, were unnoticed by any traveller, and were only announced to the world about the middle of last century, as a most interesting discovery, and recognised as the last gigantic remains of Possidone. With respect to the founders we possess no authentic records — nothing beyond plausible conjecture. The mystery which hangs over them gives them an interest peculiarly their own ; while the monuments themselves leave an impression upon the mind never to be effaced. If, according to Mazzochi, the city was founded by a colony of Dorians, these temples must have seen the full complement of years mentioned in the text, and with a little care would see as many more. Pcestan i-ose. — Victura rosaria Paesti — biferi rosaria Paesti. Vidi Paestano gaudere rosaria cultu Exoriente novo roscida Lucifero. The reader will remember the tragical fate of an English gentleman and his lady in this immediate neighbourhood. Unless well escorted a visit to Paesto is still a perilous enterprise. 70. Sirocco Madidis Notus evolat alis. — Uv. . . . , Madidus tepido sibilat ore Notus. O quis me gelidis sub vallibus Haemi Sistat. For some excellent practical observations on the subject of tliese transitions, see Change of Air, by Dr. Johnson ; they are the latest, and — if I may express an opinion founded on personal experience, and some painful familiarity with the subject — the best I have met with. 96 XOTES lO CAN 10 11. 71-2. The gloiv-ivorm kindles her connubial lamp. (Cicindela) is the- wingless female of a beetle insect. The light, which is of a beautiful sulphur colour, proceeds from the last three rings of the body. It is phosphorescent, and so strong tliat it will show itself through several folds of paper, and lias the power of absorbing light, and of giving it out at plea.suie. From the circumstance of the male being a winged insect, and tlie female not, it was necessary that some contrivance should be had recourse to for directing the rambler to his sedentaiy mate. What move beautiful — and at the same time efficient — guide could possibly be contrived than this self-lighted hymeneal torch ? 73. Sorrento. ... A vertice Surrentino Tyrrheni speculatrix virgo profundi. — Slat. Syl. ^'^itabant sestus qua pinguia culta vadosus Irrigat et placido cursu petit sequora Sarnus, Grata quies nemorum, manantibus undique rivis, Et Zephyris densas inter crepitantibus alnos. — Sannazaro. Beneath palm-trees, or amid the evergreen groves of orange-trees, c6vered with odorous fruit and sweet-scented leaves, mere existence is a pleasure, and even the pains of disease are sometimes forgotten amidst the balmy influence of Nature.— S/r IL Davy. Nubian Stream. — ^The two great streams from Abyssinia, blue and whitCf unite — as the reader well knows — in Nubia, and form the Nile. 74. Who knows to persevere. M«Xsr»j TO trav. Periand. END OF THE NOTES TO CAKTO" SECOND. OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. "The production of a refined mind. The scenery through which the traveller passed is described in a picturesque spirit. ... It is liable to few objections on the score of taste. . . . The author feels the sight of beauty with all the ardour of a poet, and describes it with a true enthusiasm . . . outbreaks of fervid passion and bold eloquence. ... We would eucourage him to proceed, for we think he possesses the power to command success."— Atlas, April 21. " A descriptive poem of a very pleasing kind." — Spectator, April 21. " There was sufficient promise in the first Canto of this Poem to ensure a welcome to the second. . . . The faults are few and the beauties numerous. . . . Among the beauties are, a manly vigour of sentiment, and an elevation and flow of lan- guage ... the picture of the fallen condition of Genoa is masterly. . . . The destruction of Pompeia is well described— the eye of the poet and hand of the painter unite in these fine stanzas. . . . The next appearance of this poet vrill be decisive of his character with the world. He needs, however, be under no appre- hension, he has only to give his powers in song fair play ; ... he cannot fail of success." — Atlienaum, April 27. " The production of an ardent and cultivated mind. The fire and genius of the true poet illuminate the pages of the ' Pilgrim in Pursuit of Health.' We regard the Heliotorpe as a very elegant poem, which gives fair promise of future fame, and attests the refined taste and good feeling of its author. The lines addressed to ' Aspasia,' as the preface to the journey, and by way of adieu, are touching and replete with ^^a.thos."— National Standard, April 27. " A volume full of promise — beautiful introductory lines," &c. — Court Journal. " Silence would be an act of injustice to the readers of the Court Journal, as well as to the author of the volume. We cannot part from the Heliotropb without presenting another extract — without pronouncing a most favourable opinion of the merit of the whole. ... In the subjoined moving picture, as it may well be termed, of an eruption of Mount Vesuvius, there is much force and originality, as well as much truth and beauty of description." — Court Journal (second notice) — May 11. " The Heliotrope Is written with much elegance of taste and fancy; and Mdth a command of style not much inferior to that of the extraordinary work of 'Childe Harold.' . . . The Heliotrope describes, or rather embodies, the wanderings of a Pilgrim in search of health ; glancing at the scenes of beauty, of grandeur, and of historical and poetical renown, tlirough which he passes — setting forth the feelings, fancies, and imaginings of the Pilgrim, as excited or created by these. ... We shall give the opening stanzas of the second Canto as a specimen of the style in which the work is executed ; and we do not know that they need fear a comparison, in point of style, with those of ' Tub Cuilde' himself." — New Court Journal, May II. OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. " The writer of 'The Hei.iothope' is not deficient in depth nf thought and sweetness of imagery. What he has seen he conveys with much feeling ' Lines sweetly descriptive.' ' A passage very forcible.' ' Stanzas sweetly pa- thetic,' &c. We can commend these two Cantos as possessed of much beauty, and we sincerely hope to meet with their author Big:ain."—T/ie London Review, May 31. " Our readers will agree with us that he is a bold man who attempts to travel in the track of Byron ; and yet here is a poet who has done so, if not with entire success, at least without incurring any thing like the disgrace of failure Our author is never tame, and occasionally rises into considerable elevation of style and sentiment."— MotUhly Magazine, May 31. " Every line in this book is written in the language of poetry : every expression is idiometic of the Muses. Cadences cannot be sweeter nor verse more polished. The author has dipped his right hand in the waves of the Heliconian fount, and has drawn it forth, strengthened with the waters glittering fresh upon it. He has caught the sweetest echo of the spirit of poetry, when she sings her most dulcet song ui her secluded shades."— 3fetropolita?i Magazine, May 31. "Whether the Pilgrim be a physician or patient, certain it is that he is a poet — the poem itself will be interesting, not only to those who seek health from Italian skies, but to those who delight in historical recollections, and beautiful descriptions of celebrated scenes. . . . The author gives a very animated delineation, not only of the voyage to Italy, but of his journies subsequently in search of health." — Dk. Johnson's Medico-Vliirurgical lieview/or July. V .§ 'Sa3AINfl3WV ^lOSANCElfj> O "^/^aJAINfl-^WV^ ^tllBRARY(?/r 2>3 '"^'■"^^■mtef^"^^™^'" L007 184551 5 \ -5^lllBRARY«c =3 -^^ ^tfOdllV3JO>^ ^11 ^OFCAlIFORj^ 7k 000 383 650 t*-^ f^. i a 'JI2JJ vrSOl^ v>Xji3„ -' )JI o N1VER% g = I INYSOV"^^ ^lOSANCni-T> vvlOSANC? =3 ^/sa^AiNnr-'^' ■:S\M?^KTfnr ^ ;^[Uh i SRARYQr ^lUBRARYOc, en p-3 il4 :AIIF0/?;I|>^ ^OFCAllfr <§ ERs//^t. ^^loSANcner^ ^^ )NIVFRJ/A vwIOSAM;EI£j> <\lUBRARYa^^ ^IUBRARY(?/ ,5j\fUNI\