Etrurian domes, Pelasgian walls, Sive fountains, with their nymphs around, Terraced and citron-scented halls, Skies smiling upon scented walls; The giant Alps, averse to France, Pant with impatient pride to those, Calling the Briton to advance Amid eternal rocks and snows. I dare not bid him stay behind, I dare not tell him where to see The fairest form, the purest mind, Ansomia! that ere sprang from thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FEARS IN SOLITUDE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE GERANIUMS by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON THE SLAVE'S DREAM by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW OF TREASON by MARCUS VALERIUS MARTIALIS BYRON by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER ANTONIO by LAURA ELIZABETH HOWE RICHARDS |