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By Lefranc de Pompignan
I LEAVE you, ye cold mountain chains, | |
| Dwelling of warriors stark and frore! | |
| You, may these eyes behold no more, | |
| Save on the horizon of our plains. | |
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| Vanish, ye frightful, gloomy views! | 5 |
| Ye rocks that mount up to the clouds! | |
| Of skies, enwrapped in misty shrouds, | |
| Impracticable avenues! | |
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| Ye torrents, that with might and main | |
| Break pathways through the rocky walls, | 10 |
| With your terrific waterfalls | |
| Fatigue no more my weary brain! | |
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| Arise, ye landscapes full of charms, | |
| Arise, ye pictures of delight! | |
| Ye brooks, that water in your flight | 15 |
| The flowers and harvests of our farms! | |
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| You I perceive, ye meadows green, | |
| Where the Garonne the lowland fills, | |
| Not far from that long chain of hills, | |
| With intermingled vales between. | 20 |
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| Yon wreath of smoke, that mounts so high, | |
| Methinks from my own hearth must come; | |
| With speed, to that beloved home, | |
| Fly, ye too lazy coursers, fly! | |
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| And bear me thither, where the soul | 25 |
| In quiet may itself possess, | |
| Where all things soothe the mind’s distress, | |
| Where all things teach me and console. | |
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