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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=348523" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Amours de Voyage, Canto IV</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Eastward, or Northward, or West? I wander and ask as I wander; <br>Weary, yet eager and sure, Where shall I come to my love? <br>Whitherward hasten to seek her? Ye daughters of Italy, tell me, <br>Graceful and tender and dark, is she consorting with you? <br>Thou that out-climbest the torrent, that tendest thy goats to the summit, <br>Call to me, child of the Alp, has she been seen on the heights? <br>Italy, farewell I bid thee! for whither she leads me, I follow. <br>Farewell the vineyard! for I, where I but guess her, must go; <br>Weariness welcome, and labour, wherever it be, if at last it <br>Bring me in mountain or plain into the sight of my love. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I. Claude to Eustace,--from Florence.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gone from Florence; indeed! and that is truly provoking;-- <br>Gone to Milan, it seems; then I go also to Milan. <br>Five days now departed; but they can travel but slowly;-- <br>I quicker far; and I know, as it happens, the home they will go to.-- <br>Why, what else should I do? Stay here and look at the pictures, <br>Statues and churches? Alack, I am sick of the statues and pictures!-- <br>No, to Bologna, Parma, Piacenza, Lodi, and Milan, <br>Off go we to-night,--and the Venus go to the Devil! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>II. Claude to Eustace,--from Bellaggio.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gone to Como, they said; and I have posted to Como. <br>There was a letter left; but the cameriere had lost it. <br>Could it have been for me? They came, however, to Como, <br>And from Como went by the boat,--perhaps to the Splügen,-- <br>Or to the Stelvio, say, and the Tyrol; also it might be <br>By Porlezza across to Lugano, and so to the Simplon <br>Possibly, or the St. Gothard,--or possibly, too, to Baveno, <br>Orta, Turin, and elsewhere. Indeed, I am greatly bewildered. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">III. Claude to Eustace,--from Bellaggio.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I have been up the Splügen, and on the Stelvio also: <br>Neither of these can I find they have followed; in no one inn, and <br>This would be odd, have they written their names. I have been to Porlezza; <br>There they have not been seen, and therefore not at Lugano. <br>What shall I do? Go on through the Tyrol, Switzerland, Deutschland, <br>Seeking, an inverse Saul, a kingdom to find only asses? <br>There is a tide, at least, in the love affairs of mortals, <br>Which, when taken at flood, leads on to the happiest fortune,-- <br>Leads to the marriage-morn and the orange-flowers and the altar, <br>And the long lawful line of crowned joys to crowned joys succeeding.-- <br>Ah, it has ebbed with me! Ye gods, and when it was flowing, <br>Pitiful fool that I was, to stand fiddle-faddling in that way! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">IV. Claude to Eustace,--from Bellaggio.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I have returned and found their names in the book at Como. <br>Certain it is I was right, and yet I am also in error. <br>Added in feminine hand, I read, By the boat to Bellaggio.-- <br>So to Bellaggio again, with the words of he writing to aid me. <br>Yet at Bellaggio I find no trace, no sort of remembrance. <br>So I am here, and wait, and know every hour will remove them. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">V. Claude to Eustace,--from Bellaggio.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I have but one chance left,--and that is going to Florence. <br>But it is cruel to turn. The mountains seem to demand me,-- <br>Peak and valley from far to beckon and motion me onward. <br>Somewhere amid their folds she passes whom fain I would follow; <br>Somewhere amid those heights she haply calls me to seek her. <br>Ah, could I hear her call! could I catch the glimpse of her raiment! <br>Turn, however, I must, though it seem I turn to desert her; <br>For the sense of the thing is simply to hurry to Florence, <br>Where the certainty yet may be learnt, I suppose, from the Ropers. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">VI. Mary Trevellyn, from Lucerne, to Miss Roper, at Florence.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Dear Miss Roper,--By this you are safely away, we are hoping, <br>Many a league from Rome; ere long we trust we shall see you. <br>How have you travelled? I wonder;--was Mr. Claude your companion? <br>As for ourselves, we went from Como straight to Lugano; <br>So by the Mount St. Gothard; we meant to go by Porlezza, <br>Taking the steamer, and stopping, as you had advised, at Bellaggio, <br>Two or three days or more; but this was suddenly altered, <br>After we left the hotel, on the very way to the steamer. <br>So we have seen, I fear, not one of the lakes in perfection. <br>Well, he is not come, and now, I suppose, he will not come. <br>What will you think, meantime? and yet I must really confess it;-- <br>What will you say? I wrote him a note. We left in a hurry, <br>Went from Milan to Como, three days before we expected. <br>But I thought, if he came all the way to Milan, he really <br>Ought not to be disappointed: and so I wrote three lines to <br>Say I had heard he was coming, desirous of joining our party;-- <br>If so, then I said, we had started for Como, and meant to <br>Cross the St. Gothard, and stay, we believed, at Lucerne, for the summer. <br>Was it wrong? and why, if it was, has it failed to bring him? <br>Did he not think it worth while to come to Milan? He knew (you <br>Told him) the house we should go to. Or may it, perhaps, have miscarried? <br>Any way, now, I repent, and am heartily vexed that I wrote it. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>There is a home on the shore of the Alpine sea, that upswelling <br>High up the mountain-sides spreads in the hollow between; <br>Wilderness, mountain, and snow from the land of the olive conceal it; <br>Under Pilatus's hill low by the river it lies; <br>Italy, utter the word, and the olive and vine will allure not,-- <br>Wilderness, forest, and snow will not the passage impede; <br>Italy, unto thy cities receding, the clue to recover, <br>Hither, recovered the clue, shall not the traveller haste?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Arthur+Hugh+Clough">Arthur Hugh Clough</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=348523" data-title="Amours de Voyage, Canto IV de Arthur Hugh Clough" data-description="Eastward, or Northward, or West? I wander and ask as I wander; 
Weary, yet eager and sure, Where shall I come to my love? 
Whitherward hasten to seek her? Ye daughters of Italy, tell me, 
Graceful and tender and dark, is she consorting with you? 
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