Italy : 3. St. Maurice Poem by Samuel Rogers

Still by the Leman Lake for many a mile,
Among those venerable trees I went,
Where damsels sit and weave their fishing-nets,
Singing some national song by the way-side.
But now the fly was gone, the gnat was come;
Now glimmering lights from cottage-windows broke.
'Twas dusk; and, journeying upward by the Rhone,
That there came down, a torrent from the Alps,
I entered where a key unlocks a kingdom;
The road and river, as they wind along,
Filling the mountain-pass. There, till a ray
Glanced thro' my lattice, and the household-stir
Warned me to rise, to rise and to depart,
A stir unusual, and accompanied
With many a tuning of rude instruments,
And many a laugh that argued coming pleasure,
Mine host's fair daughter for the nuptial rite
And nuptial feast attiring -- there I slept,
And in my dreams wandered once more, well-pleased,
But now a charm was on the rocks and woods
And waters; for methought, I was with those
I had at morn and even wished were there.