The green bay that will not shun,
Though the heavens are all aglow,
For its feet a bath of snow,--
Green Narcissus of the brook,
Fearless leaning o'er to look,
Though the stream runs chill below
In a word, the crimson dawn,
Sun, mead, streamlet, rosebud, May
Bird that sings his amorous lay,
April's laugh that gems the lawn,
Pink that sips the dews up-drawn,
Rock that stands in storm and shine,
Bay-tree that delights to twine
Round its fadeless leaves the sun,
All are parts which met in one
Form this woman most divine.
For myself, in blind unrest,
(Guess my madness if you can)
I, to seem another man,
In these courtly robes am drest,
Studious calm I now detest,
Fame no longer fires my mind,
Passion reigns where thought refined,
I my firmness fling to tears,
Courage I resign to fears,
And my hopes I give the wind.
I have said, and so will do,
That to some infernal sprite
I would offer with delight
(And the pledge I now renew)
Even my soul for her I woo.
But my offer is in vain,
Hell rejects it with disdain,
For my soul, it may allege,
Is a disproportionate pledge
For the interest I would gain.
DEMON. Is this, then your boasted courage,
In the footsteps of dejected*
Swains to follow, who grow timid
When their first assault's rejected?
Are examples then so distant
Of fair ladies who surrender
All their vanities to entreaties,
All their pride to fond addresses?
Would you make your breast the prison
Of your love, your arms her fetters?
[footnote] *Asonante in e-e to the end of the Act.
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