Henry Wadsworth Longfellow — Cadenabbia

No sound of wheels or hoof-beat breaks        &nbsp The silence of the summer day, As by the loveliest of all lakes        &nbsp I while the idle hours away. I pace the leafy colonnade        &nbsp Where level branches of the plane Above me weave a roof of shade        &nbsp Impervious to the sun and rain. At times a sudden rush of air        &nbsp Flutters the lazy leaves o'erhead, And gleams of sunshine toss and flare        &nbsp Like torches down the path I tread. By Somariva's garden gate        &nbsp I make the marble stairs my seat, And hear the water, as I wait,        &nbsp Lapping the steps beneath my feet. The undulation sinks and swells        &nbsp Along the stony parapets, And far away the floating bells        &nbsp Tinkle upon the fisher's nets. Silent and slow, by tower and town        &nbsp The freighted barges come and go, Their pendent shadows gliding down        &nbsp By town and tower submerged below. The hills sweep upward from the shore,        &nbsp With villas scattered one by one Upon their wooded spurs, and lower        &nbsp Bellaggio blazing in the sun. And dimly seen, a tangled mass        &nbsp Of walls and woods, of light and shade, Stands beckoning up the Stelvio Pass        &nbsp Varenna with its white cascade. I ask myself, Is this a dream?        &nbsp Will it all vanish into air? Is there a land of such supreme        &nbsp And perfect beauty anywhere? Sweet vision! Do not fade away;        &nbsp Linger until my heart shall take Into itself the summer day,        &nbsp And all the beauty of the lake. Linger until upon my brain        &nbsp Is stamped an image of the scene, Then fade into the air again,        &nbsp And be as if thou hadst not been.