Hung in a heaven-illumined tower, must toll Our thoughts and our desires to meet below _125 Round the rent heart and pray--as madmen do For what? they know not,--till the night of death As sunset that strange vision, severeth Our memory from itself, and us from all We sought and yet were baffled.' I recall _130 The sense of what he said, although I mar The force of his expressions. The broad star Of day meanwhile had sunk behind the hill, And the black bell became invisible, And the red tower looked gray, and all between _135 The churches, ships and palaces were seen Huddled in gloom;--into the purple sea The orange hues of heaven sunk silently. We hardly spoke, and soon the gondola Conveyed me to my lodging by the way. _140 The following morn was rainy, cold, and dim: Ere Maddalo arose, I called on him, And whilst I waited with his child I played; A lovelier toy sweet Nature never made; A serious, subtle, wild, yet gentle being, _145 Graceful without design and unforeseeing, With eyes--Oh speak not of her eyes!--which seem Twin mirrors of Italian Heaven, yet gleam With such deep meaning, as we never see But in the human countenance: with me _150 She was a special favourite: I had nursed Her fine and feeble limbs when she came first To this bleak world; and she yet seemed to know On second sight her ancient playfellow, Less changed than she was by six months or so; _155 For after her first shyness was worn out We sate there, rolling billiard balls about, When the Count entered. Salutations past-- 'The word you spoke last night might well have cast A darkness on my spirit--if man be _160 The passive thing you say, I should not see Much harm in the religions and old saws (Tho' I may never own such leaden laws) Which break a teachless nature to the yoke: Mine is another faith.'--thus much I spoke _165 And noting he replied not, added: 'See This lovely child, blithe, innocent and free; She spends a happy time with little care, While we to such sick thoughts subjected are As came on you last night. It is our will _170 That thus enchains us to permitted ill-- We might be otherwise--we might be all We dream of happy, high, majestical. Where is the love, beauty, and truth we seek, But in our mind? and if we were not weak _175 Should we be less in deed than in desire?' 'Ay, if we were not weak--and we aspire How vainly to be strong!' said Maddalo: 'You talk Utopia.' 'It remains to know,' I then rejoined, 'and those who try may find _180 How strong the chains are which our spirit bind; Brittle perchance as straw...We are assured Much may be conquered, much may be endured, Of what degrades and crushes us. We know