XXVII.
Within my spirit was conceived in train
Of amiable esteem a love most sweet,
Whose birth, with all the joy with which men greet
Their first-born's birth, long wished for, but in vain,
I hailed,—but soon from it was born a bane
Which has entirely conquered that fond flight
Of feeling, and transformed my first delight
Into sharp rigour and tormenting pain.
O cruel grandson, that to thy meek sire
Giv'st life, yet strik'st thy mournful grandsire dead,
Why so unlike thy parent! what black scowl
Wear'st thou, stern Jealousy, beneath thy cowl,
When ev'n thine own fierce mother, Envy dire,
Shrieks to behold the monster which she bred!
XXVIII.
I am for ever bathed in tears, I rend
The air with sighs, and suffer more from dread
To tell thee 'tis through thee I have been led
To such a state that, seeing where I tend,
And the long distance I have come, sweet friend,
In following thee, if I desire to leave
The vain pursuit, my heart sinks to perceive
The way behind me lengthening without end.
And if I wish to reach the onward height,
Sad thoughts of those who in the wilderness
Have fallen, at every step awake my fear;
Now above all things then I need the light
Of hope, by which I have been wont to steer
Through the dim tract of thy forgetfulness.