Why, then, farewell all hope to find And toast upon the Wall of China! EXTRACT X. Mantua. Verses of Hippolyta to her Husband. THEY tell me thou'rt the favour'd guest* No wit, like thine, to wake the jest, Utque ferunt lætus convivia læta Et celebras lentis otia mista jocis ; Aut cithara æstivum attenuas cantuque calorem. Non celebres ludos fastis spectare diebus. Sola tuos vultus referens Raphaelis imago And none could guess, so gay thou art, That thou and I are far apart. Alas, alas, how different flows, With thee and me the time away. Not that I wish thee sad, heaven knows- I only know that without thee Do I put on the jewels rare So oft hast braided o'er my brow, Thus deck'd, through festive crowds to run, And all th' assembled world to see, All but the one, the absent one, Worth more than present worlds to me! No, nothing cheers this widow'd heart My only joy, from thee apart, From thee thyself, is sitting hours And days, before thy pictur'd form That dream of thee, which Raphael's powers Have made with all but life-breath warm! And as I smile to it, and say The words I speak to thee in play, Those eyes and lips give back the same; Our little boy, too, knows it well, For there I lead him every day, And teach his lisping lips to tell The name of one that's far away. Forgive me, love, but thus alone My time is cheer'd, while thou art gone. EXTRACT XI. Florence. No-'tis not the region where Love's to be foundThey have bosoms that sigh, they have glances that rove, They have language a Sappho's own lip might resound, When she warbled her best-but they've nothing like Love. Nor is't that pure sentiment only they want, Which Heav'n for the mild and the tranquil hath made Calm, wedded affection, that home-rooted plant, Which sweetens seclusion, and smiles in the shade; That feeling, which, after long years have gone by, Remains, like a portrait we've sat for in youth, Where, ev'n though the flush of the colours may fly, The features still live, in their first smiling truth; |