James and Mary Ford, eds. Every Day in the Year. 1902.
February 29Rossini
By John Todhunter (18391916)
T
With its luxurious dread, ne’er haunted thee;
Maddening the heart like bright Circean wines,
Thy siren songs float o’er the sunlit sea;
Thy Faun-like childhood caught a Pagan glee
From mellow clusters, bending trellised vines
In some warm Tuscan vale, where sunset shines
On vintage dance and jocund minstrelsy.
If life were but a Bacchanal procession
Of sensuous joys, thou wert its great high-priest,
Old Pan of music, who, half-god, half-beast,
On the shy nymph of tears mak’st bold aggression:
Yet in thy bowers we sit at endless feast,
And of thy gorgeous realm take rich possession.