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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=535414" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Fæsulan Idyl</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Here, where precipitate Spring with one light bound<br>Into hot Summer's lusty arms expires;<br>And where go forth at morn, at eve, at night,<br>Soft airs, that want the lute to play with them,<br>And softer sighs, that know not what they want;<br>Under a wall, beneath an orange-tree<br>Whose tallest flowers could tell the lowlier ones<br>Of sights in Fiesole right up above,<br>While I was gazing a few paces off<br>At what they seemed to show me with their nods,<br>Their frequent whispers and their pointing shoots,<br>A gentle maid came down the garden-steps<br>And gathered the pure treasure in her lap.<br>I heard the branches rustle, and stept forth<br>To drive the ox away, or mule, or goat,<br>(Such I believed it must be); for sweet scents<br>Are the swift vehicles of still sweeter thoughts,<br>And nurse and pillow the dull memory<br>That would let drop without them her best stores.<br>They bring me tales of youth and tones of love,<br>And 'tis and ever was my wish and way<br>To let all flowers live freely, and all die,<br>Whene'er their Genius bids their souls depart,<br>Among their kindred in their native place.<br>I never pluck the rose; the violet's head<br>Hath shaken with my breath upon its bank<br>And not reproacht me; the ever-sacred cup<br>Of the pure lily hath between my hands<br>Felt safe, unsoil'd, nor lost one grain of gold.<br>I saw the light that made the glossy leaves<br>More glossy; the fair arm, the fairer cheek<br>Warmed by the eye intent on its pursuit;<br>I saw the foot, that, altho half-erect<br>From its grey slipper, could not lift her up<br>To what she wanted: I held down a branch<br>And gather'd her some blossoms, since their hour<br>Was come, and bees had wounded them, and flies<br>Of harder wing were working their way thro<br>And scattering them in fragments under foot.<br>So crisp were some, they rattled unevolved,<br>Others, ere broken off, fell into shells,<br>For such appear the petals when detacht,<br>Unbending, brittle, lucid, white like snow,<br>And like snow not seen thro, by eye or sun:<br>Yet every one her gown received from me<br>Was fairer than the first . . I thought not so,<br>But so she praised them to reward my care.<br>I said: you find the largest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This indeed,<br>Cried she, is large and sweet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She held one forth,<br>Whether for me to look at or to take<br>She knew not, nor did I; but taking it<br>Would best have solved (and this she felt) her doubts.<br>I dared not touch it; for it seemed a part<br>Of her own self; fresh, full, the most mature<br>Of blossoms, yet a blossom; with a touch<br>To fall, and yet unfallen.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She drew back<br>The boon she tendered, and then, finding not<br>The ribbon at her waist to fix it in,<br>Dropt it, as loth to drop it, on the rest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Walter+Savage+Landor">Walter Savage Landor</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=535414" data-title="Fæsulan Idyl de Walter Savage Landor" data-description="Here, where precipitate Spring with one light bound
Into hot Summer's lusty arms expires;
And where go forth at morn, at eve, at night,
Soft airs, that want the lute to play with them,
And softer sighs, that know not what they want;
Under a wall, ..."></div>
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