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LXVI. But thon, Clitumnus! in thy sweetest wave 36 Of the most living crystal was e'er The haunt of river nymph, to gaze and lave Her limbs where nothing hid them, thon dost rear Thy grassy banks whereon the milk - white steer Grazes; the purest god of gentle waters! And most serene of aspect, and most clear: Surely that stream was unprofaned by slaugthers A mirror and a bath for Beauty's youngest daughters!
LXVII. And on thy happy shore a temple still, Of small and delicate proportion, keeps, Upon a mild declivity of hill, Its memory of thee; beneath it sweeps Thy current's calmness; oft from out it leaps The finny darter with the glittering scales Who dwells and revels in thy glassy deeps; . While, chance, some scatter'd water - lily sails Down where the shallower wave still tells its bub:
LXIX. The roar of waters! - from the headlong height Velino cleaves the wave-worn precipice; The fall of waters! rapid as the light The flashing mass foams shaking the abyss ; The hell of waters! where they howl and hiss, And boil in endless torture; while the sweat Of their great agony, wrung out from this Their Phlegethon, curls round the rocks of jet That gird the gulf around, in pitiless horror set,
LXX. And mounts in spray the skies, and thence again Returns in an unceasing shower, which round, With its unemptied cloud of gentle rain, Is an eternal April to the ground, Making it all one emerald :- how profound The gulf! and how the giant element From rock to rock leaps with delirious bound, Crushing the cliffs, which, downward worn and rent With his fierce footsteps, yield in chasms a fearful vent
LXXI. To the broad column which rolls on, and shows More like the fouutain of an infant sea
Torn from the womb of mountains by the throes Of a new world, than only thus to be Parent of rivers, which flow gushingly, i With many windings, through the vale: Look
back! Lo! where it comes like an eternity, As if to sweep down all things in its track, Charming the eye with dread, - a matchless cata
LXXII. Horribly beautiful! but on the verge, From side to side, beneath the glittering morn, An iris sits, amidst the infernal surge, 38 Like Hope upon a death - bed, and, unworn Its steady dyes, while all around is turn By the distracted waters, bears serene Its brilliant hues with all their beams unshorn: Resembling, 'mid the torture of the scene, Love watching Madness with unalterable mien..
LXXIII. Once more upon the woody Apennine, The infant Alps, which — had I not before Gazed on their migthier parents, where the pine Sits on more shaggy summits, and where roar The thundering lauwine – Inight be worshippd
more; 39 But I have seen the soaring Jungfrau rear Her never, trodden snow, and seen the hoar Glaciers of bleak Mont-Blanc both far and near, And in Chimari heard the thunder - hills of fear,
LXXIV. Th’Acroceraunian mountains of old name; And on Parnassus seen the eagles fly Like spirits of the spot, as 'twere for fame, For still they soar'd unutferably high: I've lookd on Ida with a Trojan's eye; Athos, Olympus, Aetna, Atlas, made These hills seem things of lesser dignity, All, save the lone Socrate's height, display'd Not now in snow, which asks the lyric Roman's aid
LXXV. For our remembrance, and from out the plain Heaves like a long-swept wave about to break, And on, the curl hangs pausing: not in vain May he, who will, his recollections rake And quote in classic raptures, and awake The hills with Latian echoes; I abhorr'd Too much, to conquer for the poet's sake, . The drill'd dull lesson, forced down word by word 46 In my repugnant youth, with pleasure to record