The broom is a great ornament through the months of March and April to the vales and hills of the Apennines, in the wild parts of which it blows in the utmost profusion, and of course successively at different elevations as the season advances. It surpasses ours in beauty and fragrance,[62] but, speaking from my own limited observations only, I cannot affirm the same of several of their wild spring flowers, the primroses in particular, which I saw not unfrequently but thinly scattered and languishing compared to ours. The note at the end of this poem, upon the Oxford movement, was entrusted to my friend, Mr. Frederick Faber.[63] I told him what I wished to be said, and begged that, as he was intimately acquainted with several of the Leaders of it, he would express my thought in the way least likely to be taken amiss by them. Much of the work they are undertaking was grievously wanted, and God grant their endeavours may continue to prosper as they have done.--I.F.] Ye Apennines! with all your fertile vales Deeply embosomed, and your winding shores Of either sea, an Islander by birth, A Mountaineer by habit, would resound Your praise, in meet accordance with your claims 5 Bestowed by Nature, or from man’s great deeds Inherited:--presumptuous thought!--it fled Like vapour, like a towering cloud, dissolved. Not, therefore, shall my mind give way to sadness;-- Yon snow-white torrent-fall, plumb down it drops 10 Yet ever hangs or seems to hang in air, Lulling the leisure of that high perched town, AQUAPENDENTE, in her lofty site Its neighbour and its namesake--town, and flood Forth flashing out of its own gloomy chasm 15 Bright sunbeams--the fresh verdure of this lawn Strewn with grey rocks, and on the horizon’s verge, O’er intervenient waste, through glimmering haze, Unquestionably kenned, that cone-shaped hill With fractured summit,[64] no indifferent sight 20 To travellers, from such comforts as are thine, Bleak Radicofani![65] escaped with joy-- These are before me; and the varied scene May well suffice, till noon-tide’s sultry heat Relax, to fix and satisfy the mind 25 Passive yet pleased. What! with this Broom in flower Close at my side! She bids me fly to greet Her sisters, soon like her to be attired With golden blossoms opening at the feet Of my own Fairfield.[66] The glad greeting given, 30 Given with a voice and by a look returned Of old companionship, Time counts not minutes Ere, from accustomed paths, familiar fields, The local Genius hurries me aloft, Transported over that cloud-wooing hill, 35 Seat Sandal, a fond suitor of the clouds,[67] With dream-like smoothness, to Helvellyn’s top,[68] There to alight upon crisp moss and range,