HERO AND LEANDER. I. Oн Bards of old! what sorrows have ye sung, II. Was it that spectacles of sadder plights Whose flourish'd fortunes prosper in Love's eye, III. There stands Abydos !—here is Sestos' steep, A builded gloom shot up into the gray, IV. Lo! how the lark soars upward and is gone; His voice is heard, though body there is none, V. For Love hath framed a ditty of regrets, VI. For ere the golden crevices of morn And hang rich fringes on the skirts of night, VII. Hark! how the billows beat upon the sand! Like pawing steeds impatient of delay; Meanwhile their rider, ling'ring on the land, VIII. "Alas (he sigh❜d), that this first glimpsing light, Which makes the wide world tenderly appear, Should be the burning signal for my flight, From all the world's best image, which is here; Whose very shadow, in my fond compare, Shines far more bright than Beauty's self elsewhere. IX. Their cheeks are white as blossoms of the dark, Whose leaves close up and show the outward pale, And those fair mirrors where their joys did spark, All dim and tarnish'd with a dreary veil, X. Ev'n thus they creep into the spectral gray, XI. For what rich merchant but will pause in fear, To trust his wealth to the unsafe abyss? So Hero dotes upon her treasure here, And sums the loss with many an anxious kiss, Whilst her fond eyes grow dizzy in her head, Fear aggravating fear with shows of dread. XII. She thinks how many have been sunk and drown'd, And spies their snow-white bones below the deep, Then calls huge congregated monsters round, XIII. Saying, "That honey'd fly I saw was thee, XIV. But next, remembering her virgin fame, But seeing him break loose, repents her shame, And plucks him back upon her bosom's snow; And tears unfix her iced resolve again, As steadfast frosts are thaw'd by show'rs of rain. XV. O for a type of parting!-Love to love XVI. So brave Leander sunders from his bride ; And life must ache, until they join again. Now wouldst thou know the wideness of the wound, Mete every step he takes upon the ground. XVII. And for the agony and bosom-throe, Let it be measured by the wide vast air, For that is infinite, and so is woe, Since parted lovers breathe it everywhere. Look how it heaves Leander's labouring chest, Panting, at poise, upon a rocky crest! |