216 On some mild pastoral slope Emerge, and resting on the moonlit pales, Freshen thy flowers, as in former years, With dew, or listen with enchanted ears, From the dark dingles,2 to the nightingales. But fly our paths, our feverish contact fly! For strong the infection of our mental strife, Which, though its gives no bliss, yet spoils for rest; And we should win thee from thy own fair life, Like us distracted, and like us unblest. 1 Æneas, cf. Eneid, VI, 450-71, or Gayley, p. 348 small wooded valleys 1 vines hanging down from a cliff over the sea 2 wine of Chios, a Greek island 3 Mediterranean the gulfs of Sidra and Gabes on the north coast of Africa 5 the Straits of Gibraltar 6 a race inhabiting the Spanish peninsula and, at this time, parts of the British Islands And round her happy footsteps blow Her beauty haunts him all the night; From her he honours and desires. Her graces make him rich, and ask No guerdon; this imperial style Affronts him; he disdains to bask, The pensioner of her priceless smile. Of love's fresh-born magnipotence. To vanquish heaven, and call her Wife. He notes how queens of sweetness still Neglect their crowns, and stoop to mate; How, self-consign'd with lavish will, They ask but love proportionate; How swift pursuit by small degrees, Love's tactic, works like miracle; How valour, clothed in courtesies, Brings down the loftiest citadel; And therefore, though he merits not To kiss the braid upon her skirt, His hope discouraged ne'er a jot, Out-soars all possible desert. BOOK I, CANTO VIII. PRELUDES What's that, which, ere I spake, was gone: That, had the splendour lived a year, Did see, could not be now more clear. And nothing transient be desired; ΙΟ 15 20 25 31 35 40 5 ΙΟ 15 |