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TIVOLI.
BY L. E. L.
Rushing, like uncurbed passion, thro' the rocks
Which it has riven with a giant's strength
Down came the gushing waters, heaped with foam,
Like melted pearl, and filling the dark woods
With thunder tuned to music.
When last I gazed, fair Tivoli,
Upon those falls of thine,
Another step was by my side,
Another hand in mine:
And, mirrored in those gentle eyes,
To me thou wert a paradise.
I've smiled to see her sweet lips move,
Yet not one accent hear,
Lost in thy mighty waterfall,
Altho' we were so near,
My breath was fragrant with the air
The rose-wreath gave she wont to wear.
