Where fall many a leafy column
Lifts aloft its crested summit to the beautiful blue sky—
Where the sunbeams bright and golden,
Gloss the mosses dank and olden,
And the brooks, from out them slipping, to the gleaming river hie;—
A piazza, broad and shaded,
By the vines about it braided,
Has within its wreathed pilasters full a world of lovely dreams;
And it looks toward the river,
Where long shadows lie and quiver—