How am I pleas'd to search the hills and woods
For rising springs and celebrated floods!
To view the Nar, tumultuous in his course,
And trace the smooth Clitumnus to his source;
To see the Mincio draw his watʼry store
Through the long windings of a fruitful shore,
And hoary Albula's infected tide
O'er the warm bed of smoking sulphur glide.
Fir'd with a thousand raptures I survey
Eridanus through flow'ry meadows stray,
The king of floods! that rolling o'er the plains
The tow'ring Alps of half their moisture drains,
And proudly swoln with a whole winter's snows,
Distributes wealth and plenty where he flows.
Sometimes, misguided by the tuneful throng, I look for streams immortaliz'd in song, That lost in silence and oblivion lie,
(Dumb are their fountains and their channels dry) Yet run for ever by the muse's skill,
And in the smooth description murmur still.
Sometimes to gentle Tiber I retire,
And the fam'd river's empty shores admire,
That destitute of strength derives its course
From thrifty urns and an unfruitful source;
Yet sung so often in poetic lays,
With scorn the Danube and the Nile surveys;
So high the deathless muse exalts her theme!
Such was the Boyne, a poor inglorious stream,
That in Hibernian vales obscurely stray'd,
And unobserv'd in wild meanders play'd;
Till by your lines and Nassau's sword renown'd,
Its rising billows through the world resound,
Ovunque dello eroe le divin' opre,
E ove andra fama d'immortal verso.
Oh l'estatico mio petto inspirasse
Musa con un furor simile al vostro !
Infinite bellezze avria 'l mio verso,
Cederia di Virgilio a quel l' Italia.
Mira quali auree selve attorno ridonmi,
Che della tempestosa di Britannia
Isola si ne schivano la costa,
O trapiantate, e con pensier guardate
Maledicon la fredda regione,
E nell' aria del norte illanguidiscono.
Calor dolor il montante umor ne lievita
A nobil gusti, e piu esaltati odori.
Rozze ancor rupi molle mirto menano
Ricco profumo, peste erbette olezzano.
Portimi un dio di Baia a i gentil seggi,
O ne verdi ritiri d' Umbria traggami,
Ove i ponenti eterna han residenza.
Tutte stagioni lor pompa profondono,
Germogli, e frutti, e fiori insieme allegano,
E in gaia confusion sta l'anno tutto.
Glorie immortali in mia mente rivivono, Combatton nell cuor mio ben mille affetti, Allorache di Roma l'esaltate
Bellezze giu giacersi io ne discuopro,
Magnificenti in moli di ruine.
D'anfiteatro una stupenda altezza
Di terror mi riempie, e di diletto,
Che Roma ne suoi pubblici spettacoli
Dispopolava, e nazzioni intere
Agiatamente in suo grembo capia.
Passanvi i ciel colonne aspre d' intaglio,
Di trionfo superbi archi la sorgono,
U de prischi Roman l' immortal' opre
Where'er the hero's godlike acts can pierce,
Or where the fame of an immortal verse.
Oh, could the muse my ravish'd breast inspire With warmth like yours, and raise an equal fire, Unnumber'd beauties in my verse should shine, And Virgil's Italy should yield to mine!
See how the golden groves around me smile, That shun the coast of Britain's stormy isle, Or when transplanted and preserv'd with care, Curse the cold clime, and starve in northern air. Here kindly warmth their mounting juice ferments To nobler tastes and more exalted scents: Ev'n the rough rocks with tender myrtle bloom, And trodden weeds send out a rich perfume. Bear me, some god, to Baia's gentle seats, Or cover me in Umbria's green retreats; Where western gales eternally reside, And all the seasons lavish all their pride: Blossoms, and fruits, and flowers together rise, And the whole year in gay confusion lies.
Immortal glories in my mind revive,
And in my soul a thousand passions strive,
When Rome's exalted beauties I descry
Magnificent in piles of ruin lie.
An amphitheatre's amazing height
Here fills my eye with terror and delight,
That on its public shows unpeopled Rome,
And held uncrowded nations in its womb:
Here pillars rough with sculpture pierce the skies:
And here the proud triumphal arches rise,
Where the old Romans' deathless acts display'd,
Their base degenerate progeny upbraid:
Dispiegate alla vista ognor rinfacciano
La vile loro tralignata stirpe.
Qui tutti i fiumi lascian giu lor piani,
Per aerei condotti in alto corrono.
Sempre a novelle scene mia vagante
Musa si si ritragge, e muta ammira
L'alto spettacol d'animate rupi,
Ove mostro scalpel tutta sua forza,
Ed in carne addolci scabroso sasso.
In solenne silenzio, in maestade
Eroi stannosi, e dei, e Roman consoli :
Torvi tiranni in crudelta famosi,
E imperadori in Pario marmo accigliansi;
Mentre dame brillanti, a cui non umile
Servitu stan soggetti, ognora monstrano
I vezzi, che gli altieri cuor domaro.
Volentieri io vorria di Raffaele
Contar l'arte divina, e far vedere
Gl'immortali lavori nel mio verso.
La ve da mista forza d'ombre, e luce
Nuova creazion sorge a mia vista,
Tai celesti figure escon da suo
Pennello, e i mesticati suoi colori
Caldi di vita cosi ne sfavillano,
Di soggetto in soggetto, d'un segreto
Piacer preso, e infiammato attorno io giro
Tra la soave varieta perduto.
Mio strabilito spirto qua confondono
Arie vezzose in circolanti note
Passeggianti, e in sonori labirinti.
Cupole, e templi s' alzan la in distanti
Vedute, ed in palagi aperti, ed ampli
A celebrargli invitano la musa.
Come indulgente cielo adorno mai
La fortunata terra, e sovra quella
Whole rivers here forsake the fields below,
And wond'ring at their height through airy channels
Still to new scenes my wand'ring muse retires,
And the dumb show of breathing rocks admires;
Where the smooth chissel all its force has shown,
And soften'd into flesh the rugged stone.
In solemn silence, a majestic band,
Heroes, and gods, and Roman consuls stand,
Stern tyrants, whom their cruelties renown,
And emperors in Parian marble frown ;
While the bright dames, to whom they humbly su❜d,
Still show the charms that their proud hearts subdu'd.
Fain would I Raphael's godlike art rehearse, And show th' immortal labours in my verse, Where from the mingled strength of shade and light A new creation rises to my sight;
Such heav'nly figures from his pencil flow,
So warm with life his blended colours glow.
From theme to theme with secret pleasure tost,
Amidst the soft variety I'm lost:
Here pleasing airs my ravish'd soul confound
With circling notes and labyrinths of sound;
Here domes and temples rise in distant views,
And opening palaces invite my muse.
How has kind heav'n adorn'd the happy land, And scatter'd blessings with a wasteful hand!
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