Martinsburg gazette and public advertiser. [volume] (Martinsburg, Va. [W. Va.]) 1826-1833, 1833-06-27

Horribly beantiIall but on the verge
| From side To side, beneath the glitcring morn,
| An Iris sits, amidst the internal surge
| Like hope upon death bed, and, unwern
( It's steady dyes, while all around is torn
BY the distracted waters, bears serene
lis brilliant hues with all their beams unshorn:
Resembling, mid the torture Of the scene,
Love watching madness with unaltcrable micn.
] should think the quantity of water
at Niagara would make five hundred
such falls as those of TERM, without
/ exaggeration. 1t is shell of waters"
however, Notwithstanding, and leaps
over with current all turned into
foam by the roughness of its bed a.
bovc--a circumstance that gives the
sheet more richness of surface. Two
or three lovely little streams steal off
on either side of the fall, as if they
shrunk from the leap, and drop down,
from rock to rock, till they are lost in
the rising mist.
The sun set over the little town Of
| TERM, while we stood silently looking
down into the gulf, and the wet spray
reminded us that the most romantic
people may take cold. We descended
to our carriage: and in AIN hour were
sitting around the blazing fire at the
post-housc, with motley group of
German, Swiss, French, and Italians
a mixture of company universal in the
| public room of an Italian albergo, at
night. The coming and going vetturi-
nj stop at the same houses throughout,
and the concourse is always amusing.
| We sat till the fire burnt low, and then
| wishing our chance friends happy
night, had the "priests"* taken from
our beds, and were soon lost to every
thing but sleep.
Terni was the Italian Temple, and
its beautiful scenery was shown to CT
cero, whose excursion hither is record
ed. 1t is part of long, deep valley,
between abrupt ranges of mountains,
f, and abounds in loneliness.
We went to Spoleto, the next morn.
ing, to breakfast. 1t is very old
town, oddly built, and one of its gates
still remains, at which Hannibal was
ropulscd after his victory at Thrash
meme. 1t bears his name in time worn
letters.
AT the distance of one post from
| Spoleto, we came to the Clitumnus,
small stream, still, deep, and CLASSY
| the clearest water | ever saw. 1t looks
| almost like air. On its bank, facing
away from the road, stands the temple,
s'of small and delicate proportion"
mentioned so exquisitely by Cmldc
Harold,
! But thou, Clitumnus, in thy sweetest wave
| OF the most living crystal that was e'er
| The haunt OF river nymph, to gaze and lave
| Her limbs where nothing hid them, thou dost rear
| Thy grassy banks whcreon the milk white steer
/ Grazes; the purest god Of gentle waters,
| And most serene OF aspect, and most clear;
| Surely that stream was unproianod by slaughters,
| A mirror and bath for beauty's youngest daugh
| tcrsl
| And on thy happy shore temple still,
/ or small and delicate proportion, keeps,
/ Upon a mild declivity OF hill,
| Its memory Of thee; beneath il sweeps
| Thy currents calmness; oft from out il leaps
| The finry darter with the gittering scales,
| Who dwells and rcyels in thy CLASSY deeps;
| While, chance, some scattered water-lily sails
| Down where the shailower wave still tells its
/ bubbling tsles.
| Pass not unblest the genius of the placet
4 II through the air zephyr
| Win to the brow, tits his; and II yc trace
| Along his margin a more eloquent green,
| IL ON the heart the freshness OF the scene
| Sprinkle its cooncsc, and from the dry dust
OF weary life moment leave it clean
| With natures baptism tits to him we must
Pay prisons for this suspension Of disgust.
| The temple of the Ciitumnus might
stand in drawing The stream
is mere brook, and this little marble
gem, whose richly fretted columns were
raised to its honor with feeling Of
beauty that makes one thrill, seems ex-
actly of relative proportions. 1t is a
thing of pure poetry; and TO find an
antiquity Of such perfect preservation,
with the small clear stream running
still at the base of its CASCADE, Just as
it did when Cicero and his contempo-
raries passed it on their visits to a
country called after the loyliest vale of
Greece for its beauty, was a gratifica-
ton of the highest demand of taste.
Childe Harold's lesson,
"Pass not unblest the genius Of the
place" was scarce necessary.f
We slept at FoLIGNo. For many
miles we had observed that the houses
were proped in every direction, many
Of them in ruins apparently recent, and
small wooden sheds erected in the
midst of the squares, or beside the
roads, and crowded with the poor.
The next morning we arrived at ST.
Angelo, and found its gigantic cathc-
dral heap ofruins Its painted chap
els, to the number Of fifteen or sixteen,
were half standing in the shattered
sThe name Of wooden frame by which pot