他遇见了情人，机缘巧合，说，命中注定的少女;有一只隐藏的手向他显明别人所不能理解的可爱。他在她面前的功绩越来越多，与她眼中的承诺相匹配，在她幸福的脚步周围，吹着天堂的真实气息。因欢喜她，他不能入睡;她的美丽整夜萦绕着他;它融化了他的心，使他为惊奇、崇拜和喜悦而哭泣。啊，爱的矛盾，他渴望，他最渴望，却又最谦卑，忍受她的轻蔑和残酷的虐待，他尊敬她，渴望她。她的优雅使他富有，不求回报;这种帝国风格冒犯了他;他不屑于享受她那无价的微笑。 He prays for some hard thing to do, Some work of fame and labour immense, To stretch the languid bulk and thew Of love's fresh-born magnipotence. No smallest boon were bought too dear, Though barter'd for his love-sick life; Yet trusts he, with undaunted cheer, To vanquish heaven, and call her Wife. He notes how queens of sweetness still Neglect their crowns, and stoop to mate; How, self-consign'd with lavish will, They ask but love proportionate; How swift pursuit by small degrees, Love's tactic, works like miracle; How valour, clothed in courtesies, Brings down the haughtiest citadel; And therefore, though he merits not To kiss the braid upon her skirt, His hope, discouraged ne'er a jot, Out-soars all possible desert. II Love a Virtue Strong passions mean weak will, and he Who truly knows the strength and bliss Which are in love, will own with me No passion but a virtue 'tis. Few hear my word; it soars above The subtlest senses of the swarm Of wretched things which know not love, Their Psyche still a wingless worm. Ice-cold seems heaven's noble glow To spirits whose vital heat is hell; And to corrupt hearts even so The songs I sing, the tale I tell. These cannot see the robes of white In which I sing of love. Alack, But darkness shows in heavenly light, Though whiteness, in the dark, is black! III Unthrift Ah, wasteful woman, she who may On her sweet self set her own price, Knowing man cannot choose but pay, How has she cheapen'd paradise; How given for nought her priceless gift, How spoil'd the bread and spill'd the wine, Which, spent with due, respective thrift, Had made brutes men, and men divine. IV The Attainment You love? That's high as you shall go; For 'tis as true as Gospel text, Not noble then is never so, Either in this world or the next. Honoria. I Grown weary with a week's exile From those fair friends, I rode to see The church-restorings; lounged awhile, And met the Dean; was ask'd to tea, And found their cousin, Frederick Graham, At Honor's side. Was I concern'd, If, when she sang, his colour came, That mine, as with a buffet, burn'd? A man to please a girl! thought I, Retorting his forced smiles, the shrouds Of wrath, so hid as she was by, Sweet moon between her lighted clouds! II Whether this Cousin was the cause I know not, but I seem'd to see, The first time then, how fair she was, How much the fairest of the three. Each stopp'd to let the other go; But, time-bound, he arose the first. Stay'd he in Sarum long? If so I hoped to see him at the Hurst. No: he had call'd here, on his way To Portsmouth, where the `Arrogant,? His ship, was; he should leave next day, For two years' cruise in the Levant. II Had love in her yet struck its germs? I watch'd. Her farewell show'd me plain She loved, on the majestic terms That she should not be loved again. And so her cousin, parting, felt. Hope in his voice and eye was dead. Compassion did my malice melt; Then went I home to a restless bed. I, who admired her too, could see His infinite remorse at this Great mystery, that she should be So beautiful, yet not be his, And, pitying, long'd to plead his part; But scarce could tell, so strange my whim, Whether the weight upon my heart Was sorrow for myself or him. IV She was all mildness; yet 'twas writ In all her grace, most legibly, `He that's for heaven itself unfit, `Let him not hope to merit me.? And such a challenge, quite apart From thoughts of love, humbled, and thus To sweet repentance moved my heart, And made me more magnanimous, And led me to review my life, Inquiring where in aught the least, If question were of her for wife, Ill might be mended, hope increas'd. Not that I soar'd so far above Myself, as this great hope to dare; And yet I well foresaw that love Might hope where reason must despair; And, half-resenting the sweet pride Which would not ask me to