Yet, arts are thine that rock th' unsleeping heart, And smiles to Solitude and Want impart. I lov'd, mid thy most desert woods astray, With pensive step to measure my slow way, [H] 165 By lonely, silent cottage-doors to roam, The far-off peasant's day-deserted home; Once did I pierce to where a cabin stood, The red-breast peace had bury'd it in wood, There, by the door a hoary-headed sire 170 Touch'd with his wither'd hand an aged lyre; Beneath an old-grey oak as violets lie, Stretch'd at his feet with stedfast, upward eye, His children's children join'd the holy sound, A hermit--with his family around. 175 Hence shall we seek where fair Locarno smiles Embower'd in walnut slopes and citron isles, Or charms that smile on Tusa's evening stream, While mid dim towers and woods her [I] waters gleam; From the bright wave, in solemn gloom, retire 180 The dull-red steeps, and darkening still, aspire, To where afar rich orange lustres glow Round undistinguish'd clouds, and rocks, and snow; Or, led where Viamala's chasms confine Th' indignant waters of the infant Rhine, 185 Bend o'er th' abyss?--the else impervious gloom His burning eyes with fearful light illume. The Grison gypsey here her tent has plac'd, Sole human tenant of the piny waste; Her tawny skin, dark eyes, and glossy locks, 190 Bend o'er the smoke that curls beneath the rocks. --The mind condemn'd, without reprieve, to go O'er life's long deserts with it's charge of woe, With sad congratulation joins the train, Where beasts and men together o'er the plain 195 Move on,--a mighty caravan of pain; Hope, strength, and courage, social suffering brings, Freshening the waste of sand with shades and springs. --She solitary through the desert drear Spontaneous wanders, hand in hand with Fear. 200 A giant moan along the forest swells Protracted, and the twilight storm foretells, And, ruining from the cliffs their deafening load Tumbles, the wildering Thunder slips abroad; On the high summits Darkness comes and goes, 205 Hiding their fiery clouds, their rocks, and snows; The torrent, travers'd by the lustre broad, Starts like a horse beside the flashing road; In the roof'd [J] bridge, at that despairing hour, She seeks a shelter from the battering show'r. 210 --Fierce comes the river down; the crashing wood Gives way, and half it's pines torment the flood; [K] Fearful, beneath, the Water-spirits call, And the bridge vibrates, tottering to its fall.