The better for them?" Thus much craved his soul. Alas, from the beginning love is whole And true; if sure of naught beside, most sure Of its own truth at least; nor may endure A crowd to see its face, that cannot know How hot the pulses throb its heart below. While its own helplessness and utter want Of means to worthily be ministrant To what it worships, do but fan the more Its flame, exalt the idol far before Itself as it would have it ever be. Souls like Sordello, on the contrary, Coerced and put to shame, retaining will, Care little, take mysterious comfort still, But look forth tremblingly to ascertain If others judge their claims not urged in vain, And say for them their stifled thoughts aloud. So, they must ever live before a crowd: --"Vanity," Naddo tells you. Whence contrive A crowd, now? From these women just alive, That archer-troop? Forth glided--not alone Each painted warrior, every girl of stone, Nor Adelaide (bent double o'er a scroll, One maiden at her knees, that eve, his soul Shook as he stumbled through the arras'd glooms On them, for, 'mid quaint robes and weird perfumes, Started the meagre Tuscan up,--her eyes, The maiden's, also, bluer with surprise) --But the entire out-world: whatever, scraps And snatches, song and story, dreams perhaps, Conceited the world's offices, and he Had hitherto transferred to flower or tree, Not counted a befitting heritage Each, of its own right, singly to engage Some man, no other,--such now dared to stand Alone. Strength, wisdom, grace on every hand Soon disengaged themselves, and he discerned A sort of human life: at least, was turned [Sidenote: He therefore creates such a company;] A stream of lifelike figures through his brain. Lord, liegeman, valvassor and suzerain, Ere he could choose, surrounded him; a stuff To work his pleasure on; there, sure enough: But as for gazing, what shall fix that gaze? Are they to simply testify the ways He who convoked them sends his soul along With the cloud's thunder or a dove's brood-song? --While they live each his life, boast each his own [Sidenote: Each of which, leading its own life,] Peculiar dower of bliss, stand each alone In some one point where something dearest loved Is easiest gained--far worthier to be proved Than aught he envies in the forest-wights! No simple and self-evident delights, But mixed desires of unimagined range, Contrasts or combinations, new and strange, Irksome perhaps, yet plainly recognized By this, the sudden company--loves prized By those who are to prize his own amount Of loves. Once care because such make account, Allow that foreign recognitions stamp The current value, and his crowd shall vamp