On Richard Wilson's "Lake of Narni"' [sic]
The tops of the pines are like a balloon
Floating in the Italian sky:
An emerald bubble that seems to move
And yet is held eternally.
To left, the pillared cypresses
Stand on guard above the stream,
Whose placid surface mirrors a wood
Where all is dark as in a dream.
The roadway winds around to the right,
On the bluff a ruined tower;
The lake is bathed in golden light,
Magic in this surrendered hour.
At the foot of the trees, a peasant troop
Of gay and coloured figures lie,
Taking their delightful ease
Under the mellow Italian sky.
Here in the foreground look at these:
A contadino leans on his crook,
Takes the hand of his girl in his
So they stand and exchange a look
That lasts for ever. O moving light,
Liquid and lovely on mountain and stream,
On country boy and girl that stand
In the green landscape of a dream:
Stillness and innocence and peace:
So let them stand, so let them be,
So let the loving light suffuse
The Italian sky eternally.
