oomy woods [158] her fertile fields: 570
Five streams of ice amid her cots descend,
And with wild flowers and blooming orchards blend;--[Ee]
A scene more fair than what the Grecian feigns
Of purple lights and ever-vernal plains;
Here all the seasons revel hand in hand: 575
'Mid lawns and shades by breezy rivulets fanned [159]
[160] They sport beneath that mountain's matchless height [161]
That holds no commerce with the summer night. [Ee]
From age to age, throughout [162] his lonely bounds
The crash of ruin fitfully resounds; 580
Appalling [163] havoc! but serene his brow,
Where daylight lingers on [164] perpetual snow;
Glitter the stars, and all is black below. [Ee]

What marvel then if many a Wanderer sigh,
While roars the sullen Arve in anger by, [165] 585
That not for thy reward, unrivall'd [166] Vale! [Ff]
Waves the ripe harvest in the autumnal gale;
That thou, the slave of slaves, art doomed to pine
And droop, while no Italian arts are thine,
To soothe or cheer, to soften or refine. [167] 590

Hail Freedom! whether it was mine to stray,
With shrill winds whistling round my lonely way, [168]
On [169] the bleak sides of Cumbria's heath-clad moors,
Or where dank sea-weed lashes Scotland's shores;
To scent the sweets of Piedmont's breathing rose, 595
And orange gale that o'er Lugano blows;
Still have I found, where Tyranny prevails,
That virtue languishes and pleasure fails, [170]
While the remotest hamlets blessings share
In thy loved [171] presence known, and only there; 600
_Heart_-blessings--outward treasures too which the eye
Of the sun peeping through the clouds can spy,
And every passing breeze will testify. [172]
There, to the porch, belike with jasmine bound
Or woodbine wreaths, a smoother path is wound; [173] 605
The housewife there a brighter garden sees,
Where hum on busier wing her happy bees; [174]
On infant cheeks there fresher roses blow;
And grey-haired men look up with livelier brow,--[175]
To greet the traveller needing food and rest; 610
Housed for the night, or but a half-hour's guest. [176]

And oh, fair France! though now the traveller sees
Thy three-striped banner fluctuate on the breeze;[177]
Though martial songs have banished songs of love,
And nigh