Here the bright olive's phantom branches glow, And flowers of every hue and breath abound, Of ripened grain. Alien to pain and wrong, Men fill the days with dance, the nights with song. Alfred Austin. BENEATH THE AZURE GROTTO. I. ENEATH the vine-clad slopes of Capri's Isle, The magic sight that meets your vision there, Shine as does silver scattered o'er the woof Of some rich robe, or bright as stars whose light Inlays the azure concave of the night. II. You cannot find throughout this world, I ween, And shine in radiance on the dazzled eye, Charles D. Bell. THE GROTTO AZZURO. ANY an archéd roof is bent MANY Over the wave, But none like thine, from the firmament Beautiful cave? Blue, all blue, may we not compare it With heaven's hue, With the pearl-shell, with burning spirit, Or with aught that is azure too? Less of earth than the spirit-world, Waters of thine with its dews impearled, Nor sunrise crimsoned the concave here; But evening in thee hath, as grandly glooms The twilight which thy one star illumes, A rival sphere. Waxes and wanes with morn and even, Resting on thy horizon's rim Steadfast, but burning bright and dim On thy huge dome and cathedral aisles, Than man's monuments, Capri piles Island rocks, which mountains are. Gleams through the flood thy spangled floor, The world without by that sole portal And therefore sacred to shapes immortal For classic ages thy halls have been. Sailing along from the lessening skylight, Let us from the deepening twilight Its secrets win. Mermaids, mantled in mazarine, The ocean-sirens, and her, their queen, Still breathes the ancient Parthenope, Blue, — blue, ——- beautiful and intense, Spirits, or some one spirit immense, Breathing and burning in the air; Making an ardent presence felt, No! they may emit no heat, At noontide, in thy coolness sweet, World of wonders and strange delights, Bowers of branching stalactites, And waves so clear, and air so rich, That, gazing, we know not which is which, - To bathe the burning brow is sweet Often to find out truth's retreat, In sparkling grotto, in cool abysm; William Gibson. Capua. CAPUA. CAPUA was supposed to take its name from being the caput, or head city, of the southern Etruscan confederacy. IRST of old of Oscan towns! FIRS Prize of triumphs, pearl of crowns; Half a thousand years have fled, Since arose thy royal head, Splendor of the Lucumoes. |