IV.
And such—ev'n now, in earliest youth are seen—
But would they live, with armour more deform,
Their love—o'erflowing breasts must learn to screen:
"The bird that sweetest sings can least endure the storm."
V.
And yet, despite of all the gushing tear—
The melting tone—the darting heart-stream—proved,
The soul that in them spoke, could spurn at fear
Of death or danger; and had those she loved
Required it at their need, she could have stood,
Unmoved, as some fair-sculptured statue, while
The dome that guards it, earth's convulsions, rude
Are shivering—meeting ruin with a smile.
VI.
And this, at intervals in language bright
Told her blue eyes; tho' oft the tender lid
Like lilly drooping languidly; and white
And trembling—all save love and lustre hid.
Then, as young christian bard had sung, they seemed
Like some Madonna in his soul—so sainted;
But opening in their energy—they beamed
As tasteful pagans their Minerva painted;
While o'er her graceful shoulders' milky swell,
Like those full oft on little children seen
Almost to earth her silken ringlets fell
Nor owned Pactolus' sands more golden sheen.