Gracious and calm whom nothing ever flutters,

Who nought but what is frank and cordial utters ;
Whose greatest pleasure at his banquet lies
In meeting at each glance responsive eyes,
His sweetest joy appearing aye to be
Others made happy by himself to see.

Yet all was not e'en finish'd by that show,
As later hours and long past midnight know.
Strange howls the livelong night seem'd floating
there

All wakeful guests such as the Bard to scare.
He thought he heard deep sighs, protracted moans,
That seem'd almost of dying man the groans,
While footsteps moved through winding corridors,
And some saw open'd suddenly their doors,
To close as suddenly when eyes had caught,
Quick proof their chamber was not what was sought.
But still the cause of this I won't explain,
Unsolved the mystery must here remain;
Which only proved how truly he could say
Adventures and romance had mark'd the day.

CANTO V.

LOVE.

BUT now it still is left us to explain

How Love durst venture in so rude a song,

Although of that there are who won't complain
Like those who think to name it must be wrong.

A theme can't be obnoxious to reproaches
That leads us to the brightest fields of thought,
So now that for our play the end approaches
We hope your favour not in vain was sought.

As when two lovers see themselves observed
With smiles by matrons gentle as can be,
Those whose sweet age mature has never swerved
From thinking of such pairs with charity;

And they feel inward pleasure from the way
That these look on them and about them guess,
As if to see them were a holiday,

To wish them pastime what they would express;

So should we now feel blest if your regard
Of friendliness would prove a quick disclosure ;
Nor should we care much for the censures hard
Of those who advocate such fields' enclosure.

To see we're look'd on by the stranger met,
As taking in that interlude a part,
Which sunny natures never can forget,
Is to apply a cordial to the heart.

We can't dispense with wishing you our friends,
Thinking you must be still to nature true;
So when the curtain falls and all this ends,
We would at least have pardon whole from you.

I

This love sooth proves a mystery for all;
It is not what some skill'd declaimers say,
Nor what will for such shouts of haro call,
Nor what 'tis deem'd in novels of the day.

It rather seems to justify the laugh
Of some who trace it to a tender brain

66

Resembling pap" say they, as if to chaff
Those in life's sweetest era with its pain.

Why one should be all company, admired,
Known to be good and clever as she's fair,
Of whom in daily life you ne'er grow tired,
For whose true, real interest you would care;

And yet who never dives into your heart,
Or in a moment carries it away;

As will another, all love, taught no part,
Is what nor I nor you can ever say.

And then that other, who can sing of her
In words that will cold reason understand?
The thought of whom can act so like a spur,
The slightest touch of which you can't withstand.

As loadstones draw the iron so will she
Attract you by a strange unconscious force;
Two beings tuned in unison to be,

One for resistance left without resource.

Why palpitates your heart when she draws near? Why in her presence feel you so at rest?

Forgetting doubts, misgivings, selfish fear,
To know that next her bosom you are blest?
This is what no one upon earth can tell;
Affinities of nature you may say,

Or you may try vain reasonings with the spell,
But sigh or laugh the mystery will stay.

One of great Nature's wonders in our sphere
Are these distinctions when we thus can cull
From all our race just one that will appear
The good, the true, the simple, beautiful.

Out of the million others, none alike,
There is but one that we consider best,
At least as such that can our fancy strike,
And therefore chosen over all the rest.

Oh happy is the man who has combined
The two constituents of happy life-

To have the same home, no less the same mind,1
Which last destroys the seeds of wretched life.

But if the first of these main stays should be
Not instantly attainable by all,

Must we the second without action see
When it makes nothing of true worth to fall?

Avaunt the wretch who violates a bond,
But suffer to be faithful the unchain'd,

Who without grieving Heaven may yet be fond,
And wear his robe of manhood free, unstain'd.
1 δμοναίειν and ὁμονοίειν.

Hymen without Love's bow is sometimes left,
Is that a reason why the boy should be
Of every commendation quite bereft,
As if a dream of bad mythology?

Guilty and stupid both must be the times,
When enmity to Heav'n prefers worst wrong;
Is that a reason to condemn all rhymes
That would repeat Love's whispers in a song?

Yes, call him what you will, he has his rights,
And 'twas of these alone that we would sing ;
He lends his quiver to cause just delights;
And surely then, he is no hostile thing?

Oh why should men traduce the joy of life?
A reasonable source of love divine;

That reasonable joy which hates man's strife,
That makes all nature with enchantment shine?

That makes them love the poor, the child, the youth,

Enamour'd with one woman's humour, wit,
That teaches them to see each thing in truth,
Or with her eyes to metamorphose it?

As it is somewhat that in her they trace

Which handsomeness diffuseth through the crowd, That makes them think they love the human race, Though not a word of this they say aloud.