  Claudio. Know you any Hero? Gentle and modest Hero! I can see Her delicate figure, and her soft blue eye, Like a warm vision—lovely as she stood, Veiled in the presence of young Claudio. Modesty bows her head, and that young heart That would endure all suffering for the love It hideth, is as tremulous as the leaf Forsaken of the Summer. She hath flung Her all upon the venture of her vow, And in her trust leans meekly, like a flower By the still river tempted from its stem, And on its bosom floating. Once again I see her, and she standeth in her pride, With her soft eye enkindled, and her lip Curled with its sweet resentment, like a line Of lifeless coral. She hath heard the voice That was her music utter it, and still To her affection faithful, she hath turned And questioned in her innocent unbelief, "Is my lord well, that he should speak so wide?"— How did they look upon that open brow, And not read purity? Alas for truth! It hath so many counterfeits. The words, Are by the wise mistaken, and when light Hath made the brow transparent, and the face Is like an angel's—virtue is so fair— They read it like an over-blotted leaf, And break the heart that wrote it. |
|
