Lota - Part III

A poem on Unrequited Love, by Augusta Webster

Page 58

But before
He went from London he had made his care
To find for Lota's husband a career
And livelihood. And so, Guarini, well,
Became a city prince's clerk.

Now pass
Some years with me, and let me show you where
There is a smooth flat sward of lake-side shore
With a great fir-coned hill sloped steep above,
And on the water rosy snow-peaks shown,
And, over mountains fronting darkly near
With blue dim shadows in their dells and clefts
And creeping up them from the lake, a verge
Of rosy snow-peaks, and just opposite,
In the shelter of one grassy slope that mounts
In soft long curves and then breaks suddenly
In a notched line of rugged table-flat
With a great pinewood precipice above,
A little Alpine village glimmers out
From the grey evening shadows.

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