Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
France: Vols. IX–X. 1876–79.
On the Terrace of the Aigalades
By Joseph Méry (17971866)F
The rose to touch our hands in play,
We at a glance behold three things,—
The sea, the town and the highway.
I drown my best friends in the deep;
And those who braved my tempests, here
Among my sea-weeds lie asleep!
With tumult and with smoke and care;
My days with toil are overwrought,
And in my nights I gasp for air.
To the pale climates of the North;
Where my last milestone stands, abide
The people to their death gone forth.
Full of delicious air, glides by
Amid a multitude of flowers,
As countless as the stars on high;
Bathed with an azure all divine,
Where springs the tree that gives us oil,
The grape that giveth us the wine;
Whose tops with flowers are covered o’er;
Where springtime of the Hesperides
Begins, but endeth nevermore;
That unto gentle sleep persuade;
This rainbow of the waterfalls,
Of mingled mist and sunshine made;
We live our languid life apart;
This air is that of life’s delights,
The festival of sense and heart;
Forget to-morrow in to-day,
And leave unto the passing throng
The sea, the town, and the highway.