/ VJL D-FLOl VEK SOJVNE TS. 



GRASS OF PARNASSUS. 



(PARNASSIA.) 



Q STATELY, calm, and pure, as best beseems 

 One born in that far land of sun and song, 

 Beloved of gods and men, whose vales along 

 Strayed once the sacred Nine, and by whose streams 

 The great Pan piped, remote and strange it seems 

 To find thee here, mid grasses rank and long, 

 Where, by the hidden brook, serene and strong 

 As Autumn's smile, our clear-eyed Gentian gleams. 

 Perchance it was her blue and fringed eyes 

 That lured thee from thy storied home to range, 

 And tempted thee to give, in glad exchange 

 For such a heaven, thy classic Grecian skies : 

 It well may be, since beauty knows no clime, 

 And love, immortal, conquers space and time. 

 OCTOBER. 



