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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
MONTALVO, by KATHLEEN NORRIS (1880-1966)
First Line: Italy is your mother; yours the blood
Last Line: Find old-world beauty and find new-world hope?
Alternate Author Name(s): Norris, Kathleen Thompson
Subject(s): Italian Americans
First Line: Italy is your mother; yours the blood
Last Line: Find old-world beauty and find new-world hope?
Alternate Author Name(s): Norris, Kathleen Thompson
Subject(s): Italian Americans
Italy is your mother; yours the blood.
Beneath a sky as blue as Parma's own,
On foothills fair as Genoa's, you have grown
True, strangely, to your race. The conquered wood
Creeps from you westward into solitude:
Ilex throws shade on terraced lawns new-mown,
And fountains, whence the doves have dipped and flown,
Sing still of their Sicilian parenthood.
O gallant weary traveler, whose name
Is lent to this white dream made manifest—
Montalvo! Musing on this wooded slope,
Saw you these courts, these parrots plumed in flame,
This roof 'neath which a pilgrim might, at rest,
Find old-world beauty and find new-world hope?
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