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EPODE I. a.
I STOOD within the city disinterred:+
The listening soul in my suspended blood;
A plane of light between two Heavens of azure :
As in the sculptor's thought; and there
Because the crystal silence of the air
Weighed on their life; even as the Power divine
Which then lulled all things, brooded upon mine.
The Author has connected many recollections of his visit to Pompeii and Baie with the enthusiasm excited by the intelligence of the proclamation of a Constitutional Government at Naples. This has gi ven a tinge of picturesque and descriptive imagery to the introductory Epodes which depicture these scenes, and some of the majestic feelings permanently connected with the scene of this animating event.Author's Note.
EPODE II. a.
Then gentle winds arose
With many a mingled close
Of wild Eolian sound and mountain odour keen;
Welters with airlike motion
Within, above, around its bowers of starry green,
It bore me like an Angel o'er the waves
A spirit of deep emotion
Of the dead kings of Melody.*
Shadowy Aornos darkened o'er the helm
There streamed a sunlike vapour, like the standard
Whilst from all the coast,
Louder and louder, gathering round, there wandered Over the oracular woods and divine sea
Prophesyings which grew articulate
They seize me-I must speak them-be they fate!
Homer and Virgil.
He came like a dream in the dawn of life,
And for my sake
Make answer the while my heart shall break!
But heart has a music which Echo's lips,
On my desolate path
Cast the darkness of absence, worse than death!
Indian. And if my grief should still be dearer tom? Than all the pleasure in the world beside,
Why would you lighten it ?—
I offer only
That which I seek, some human sympathy
In this mysterious island.
My sister, my beloved! What do I say?
My brain is dizzy, and I scarce know whether
The passing wind which heals the brow at noon,
Or long soothe could it linger. But you said
Loved! Oh, I love. Methinks
This word of love is fit for all the world,
And that for gentle hearts another name
Would speak of gentler thoughts than the world owns.
I have loved.
And thou lovest not? If so
Young as thou art, thou canst afford to weep.
Lady. Oh! would that I could claim exemption
I loved, I love, and when I love no more
While the musk-rose leaves, like flakes of crimson snow,
Showered on us, and the dove mourned in the pine,
Indian. Your breath is like soft music, your words ar
The echoes of a voice which on my heart
Sleeps like a melody of early days.
But as you said
He was so awful, yet
So beautiful in mystery and terror,
Calming me as the loveliness of heaven
And much more need that there should be found one
To share remorse, and scorn, and solitude,
And all the ills that wait on those who do
The tasks of ruin in the world of life.