Classic Poem

Brilliant the sky, as 'twere of diamond made,
Wherethrough unearthly radiance seems to glow;
Like souls love-stricken, in the far distance fade
The mountains, line on line of sparkling snow.

Pale blue amid the tree-tops, gently swayed
By a light breeze, the smoke-wreaths upward go
From cottage roofs: in many a bright cascade
Through emerald grass flows the Madesimo.

Red-gowned the Alpine women pass to keep
Thy feast day, Saint Abbondio; their song,
The stream's, the pine-trees' murmur blend in one.

What smileth there down in the valley deep?
Peace, peace, my heart! Fair is the world, and long
The sleep thou sleepest when brief life is done.