Therefore more sweet and strange Has been the mystery Of thy long love to me, That doth not quit, nor change, Nor tax my solemn heart, That kisseth in a gloom, Knowing not who thou art That givest, nor to whom. Therefore the tender touch Is more; more dear the smile: And thy light words beguile My wisdom overmuch: And O with swiftness fly The fancies of my song To happy worlds, where I Still in thy love belong. 6 Haste on, my joys! your treasure lies In swift, unceasing flight. O haste: for while your beauty flies I seize your full delight. Lo! I have seen the scented flower, Whose tender stems I cull, For her brief date and meted hour Appear more beautiful. O youth, O strength, O most divine For that so short ye prove; Were but your rare gifts longer mine, Ye scarce would win my love. Nay, life itself the heart would spurn, Did once the days restore The days, that once enjoyed return, Return--ah! nevermore. 7 INDOLENCE We left the city when the summer day Had verged already on its hot decline, And charmèd Indolence in languor lay In her gay gardens, 'neath her towers divine: 'Farewell,' we said, 'dear city of youth and dream!' And in our boat we stepped and took the stream. All through that idle afternoon we strayed Upon our proposed travel well begun, As loitering by the woodland's dreamy shade, Past shallow islets floating in the sun, Or searching down the banks for rarer flowers We lingered out the pleasurable hours. Till when that loveliest came, which mowers home Turns from their longest labour, as we steered Along a straitened channel flecked with foam, We lost our landscape wide, and slowly neared An ancient bridge, that like a blind wall lay Low on its buried vaults to block the way. Then soon the narrow tunnels broader showed, Where with its arches three it sucked the mass Of water, that in swirl thereunder flowed, Or stood piled at the piers waiting to pass; And pulling for the middle span, we drew The tender blades aboard and floated through. But past the bridge what change we found below! The stream, that all day long had laughed and played Betwixt the happy shires, ran dark and slow, And with its easy flood no murmur made: And weeds spread on its surface, and about The stagnant margin reared their stout heads out. Upon the left high elms, with giant wood Skirting the water-meadows, interwove Their slumbrous crowns, o'ershadowing where they stood The floor and heavy pillars of the grove: And in the shade, through reeds and sedges dank, A footpath led along the moated bank.