Poems (Jackson)/Snow-Drops in Italy
SNOW-DROPS IN ITALY.
LOYAL vestals in this land of sun,Your white cheeks flush not, and your virgin eyesVouchsafe no lifted look. In vain the skiesAre red and pale with passion; swift clouds runAnd beckon; warm winds call; long days are doneAnd nights are spent, and still by no surprise,No lure can ye be tempted!O, where liesThe spell by which your gentleness can shun These heats? Is it your hidden zone of gold?Or in the emerald whose glimmers show,Scarce show, beneath your white robes' inner fold?Vain question! Still your calm bright peace ye hold;And yet ye set my pulses all aglowWith loyalty like yours to lands of snow.