Was it possible beauty like this to see, and not feel it? Worked not those heavenly charms e'en on a mind dull as thine? Blame not thyself, unhappy one! Oft doth the bard an enigma Thus propose to the throng, skillfully hidden in words; Each one enjoys the strange commingling of images graceful, Yet still is wanting the word which will discover the sense. When at length it is found, the heart of each hearer is gladdened, And in the poem he sees meaning of twofold delight. Wherefore so late didst thou remove the bandage, O Amor, Which thou hadst placed o'er mine eyes,—wherefore remove it so late? Long did the vessel, when laden, lie waiting for favoring breezes, Till in kindness the wind blew from the land o'er the sea. Vacant times of youth! and vacant dreams of the future! Ye all vanish, and naught, saving the moment, remains. Yes! it remains,—my joy still remains! I hold thee, my Dora, And thine image alone, Dora, by hope is disclosed. [Pg 6450]Oft have I seen thee go, with modesty clad, to the temple, While thy mother so dear solemnly went by thy side. Eager and nimble thou wert, in bearing thy fruit to the market, Boldly the pail from the well didst thou sustain on thy head. Then was revealed thy neck, then seen thy shoulders so beauteous, Then, before all things, the grace filling thy motions was seen. Oft have I feared that the pitcher perchance was in danger of falling, Yet it ever remained firm on the circular cloth. Thus, fair neighbor, yes, thus I oft was wont to observe thee, As on the stars I might gaze, as I might gaze on the moon; Glad indeed at the sight, yet feeling within my calm bosom Not the remotest desire ever to call them mine own. Years thus fleeted away! Although our houses were only Twenty paces apart, yet I thy threshold ne'er crossed. Now by the fearful flood are we parted! Thou liest to Heaven, Billow! thy beautiful blue seems to me dark as the night. All were now in movement: a boy to the house of my father Ran at full speed and exclaimed, "Hasten thee quick to the strand! Hoisted the sail is already, e'en now in the wind it is fluttering, While the anchor they weigh, heaving it up from the sand; Come, Alexis, oh come!"—My worthy stout-hearted father Pressed, with a blessing, his hand down on my curly-locked head, While my mother carefully reached me a newly made bundle; "Happy mayst thou return!" cried they—"both happy and rich!" Then I sprang away, and under my arm held the bundle, Running along by the wall. Standing I found thee hard by, At the door of thy garden. Thou smilingly saidst then, "Alexis! Say, are yon boisterous crew going thy comrades to be? Foreign coasts wilt thou visit, and precious merchandise purchase, Ornaments meet for the rich matrons who dwell in the town; Bring me also, I pray thee, a light chain; gladly I'll pay thee, Oft have I wished to possess some such a trinket as that."