BOOK III. ̔Ο ̓πόλλων οὐ παντὶ φαέινεται, "Ος μιν ἴδη, μέγας οὗτος. CALLIM. Er Hymno in Apollinem. "Not to all men Apollo shews himselfWho sees Him-he is great!" BOOK III. CHAPTER I. "Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears-soft stillness and the night BOAT SONG ON THE LAKE OF COMO. 1. THE Beautiful Clime!-the Clime of Love! Like a mother's eyes, the earnest skies Ever have smiles for thee! Not a flower that blows, not a beam that glows, 2. The beautiful lake, the Larian lake!* Soft lake like a fairy sea, The Huntress Queen, with her nymphs of sheen, See, the Lady of Night and her maids of light, 3. Beautiful child of the lonely hills, Ever blest may thy slumbers be! The tears of the earth, since thy harmless birth, All cradled in flowers, the bee-like Hours * The ancient name for Como. Such, though uttered in the soft Italian tongue, and now imperfectly translated-such were the notes that floated one lovely evening in summer along the lake of Como. The boat, from which came the song, drifted gently down the sparkling waters, towards the mossy banks of a lawn, whence on a little eminence gleamed the white walls of the villa, backed by vineyards. On that lawn stood a young and handsome woman leaning on the arm of her husband, and listening to the song. But her delight was soon deepened into one of more personal interest, as the boatmen, nearing the banks, changed their measure, and she felt that the minstrelsy was in honour of herself. SERENADE TO THE SONGSTRESS. 1. Softly-oh, soft! let us rest on the oar, And vex not a billow that sighs to the shore:- The Eagle of old renown, And the Lombard's iron crown, And Milan's mighty name are ours no more; But by this glassy water, Harmonia's youngest daughter, Still from the lightning saves one laurel to our shore. 2. They heard thee, Teresa, the Teuton, the Gaul, Who have raised the rude thrones of the North on our fall; They heard thee, and bowed to the might of thy song, The bright interpreter Of Art's great mysteries to th' enchanted throng; Sad Rome forgot her chains; The world the sword had lost was conquered back by song! "Thou repentest, my Teresa, that thou hast renounced thy dazzling career for a dull home, and a husband old enough to be thy father," said the husband to the wife, with a smile that spoke confidence in the answer. 66 Ah, no! even this homage would have no music to me if thou didst not hear it." She was a celebrated personage in Italy-the Signora Cesarini, now Madame de Montaigne! Her earlier youth had been spent upon the stage, and her promise of vocal excellence had been most brilliant. But after a brief though splendid career, she married a French gentleman of good birth and fortune, retired from the stage, and spent her life alternately in the gay saloons of Paris, and upon the banks of the dreamy Como, on which her husband had purchased a small but beautiful villa. She still, however, exercised in private her fascinating art; to which for she was a woman of singular accomplishment and talent she added the gift of the improvvisatrice. She had just returned for the summer to this lovely retreat, and a party of enthusiastic youths from Milan had sought the lake of Como to welcome her arrival with the suitable homage of song and music. It is a charming relic, that custom of the brighter days of Italy; and I myself have listened, on the still waters of the same lake, to a similar greeting to a greater genius-the queenlike and unrivalled Pasta - the Semiramis of Song! And while my boat paused, and I caught something of the enthusiasm of the serenaders, the boatman touched me, and, pointing to a part of the lake on which the setting sun shed its rosiest smile, he said, "There, Signor, was drowned one of your countrymen 'bellissimo uomo che fu bello!"yes, there, in the pride of his promising youth, of his noble and almost godlike beauty, before the very windows the very eyes-of his bride-the waves with |