English

Grand treat.
A favorable determination.
A submerged dragon.
Do not use it.
See a dragon in a field: it will be favorable to see a big man.
Nobles throughout the day are g'ian-g'ian vigorous, but at night they are wary.
Threatening, but there will be no misfortune.
Or it leaps in the deep: no misfortune.
A dragon flying in the sky: it will be favorable to see a big man.
A dragon in a gully: there will be trouble.
See a group of dragons without heads: auspicious.

It was a wild and untrain'd bower,
Enough to screen from April shower,
Or shelter from June's hotter hour,
Tapestried with starry jessamines,
The summer's gold and silver mines;
With a moss seat, and its turf set
With crowds of the white violet.
And close beside a fountain play'd,
Dim, cool, from its encircling shade;
And lemon trees grew round, as pale
As never yet to them the gale
Had brought a message from the sun
To say their summer task was done.
It was a very solitude
For love in its despairing mood,

CANTO III.

Land of the olive and the vine,
The saint and soldier, sword and shrine!
How glorious to young R AYMOND'S eye
Swell'd thy bold heights, spread thy clear sky,
When first he paused upon the height
Where, gather'd, lay the Christian might.
Amid a chesnut wood were raised
Their white tents, and the red cross blazed,
Meteor-like, with its crimson shrine,
O'er many a standard's scutcheon'd line.

On the hill opposite there stood

CANTO II.

The first, the very first; oh! none
Can feel again as they have done;
In love, in war, in pride, in all
The planet of life's coronal,
However beautiful or bright, —
What can be like their first sweet light!
When will the youth feel as he felt,
When first at beauty's feeThe knelt,
As if her least smile could confer
A kingdom on its worshipper;
Or ever care or ever fear
Had cross'd love's morning hemisphere!
And the young bard, the first time praise

CANTO I.

Call to mind your loveliest dream —
When your sleep is lull'd by a mountain stream,
When your pillow is made of the violet,
And over your head the branches are met
Of a lime-tree cover'd with bloom and bees,
When the rose's breath is on the breeze,
When odours and light on your eyelids press
With summer's delicious idleness;
And upon you some shadowy likeness may glance
Of the faery banks of the bright Durance;
Just where at first its current flows

CANTO FOURTH .

A SUMMER Night descends in balm
On the orange-bloom, and the stately Palm,
Of that romantic steep,
Where, silent as the silent hour,
'Mid the soft leaves of their Indian bower,
Three happy spirits sleep.
And we will leave them to themselves,
To the moon and the stars, these happy elves,
To the murmuring wave, and the zephyr's wing,
That dreams of gentlest joyance bring
To bathe their slumbering eyes;
And on the moving clouds of night,

CANTO THIRD .

O H many are the beauteous isles
Unknown to human eye,
That, sleeping 'mid the Ocean smiles,
In happy silence lie.
The Ship may pass them in the night,
Nor the sailors know what a lovely sight
Is resting on the Main;
Some wandering Ship who hath lost her way,
And never, or by night or day,
Shall pass these isles again.
There, groves that bloom in endless spring
Are rustling to the radiant wing
Of birds, in various plumage bright,
As rainbow-hues, or dawning light.

CANTO SECOND .

O Heavenly Q UEEN ! by Mariners beloved!
Refulgent Moon! when in the cruel sea
Down sank yon fair Ship to her coral grave,
Where didst thou linger then? Sure it behoved
A Spirit strong and pitiful like thee
At that dread hour thy worshippers to save;
Nor let the Glory where thy tenderest light,
Forsaking even the clouds, with pleasure lay,
Pass, like a cloud which none deplores, away,
No more to bless the empire of the Night.
How oft to thee have home-sick sailors pour'd

CANTO FIRST .

I T is the midnight hour: — the beauteous Sea,
Calm as the cloudless heaven, the heaven discloses,
While many a sparkling star, in quiet glee,
Far down within the watery sky reposes.
As if the Ocean's heart were stirr'd
With inward life, a sound is heard,
Like that of dreamer murmuring in his sleep;
'Tis partly the billow, and partly the air
That lies like a garment floating fair
Above the happy deep.
The sea, I ween, cannot be fann'd
By evening freshness from the land,

Go up among the mountains when the storm
Of midnight howls, but go in that wild mood
When the soul loves tumultuous solitude,
And through the haunted air each giant form
Of swinging pine, black rock, or ghostly cloud
That veils some fearful cataract tumbling loud,
Seems to thy breathless heart with life imbued.
Mid those gaunt, shapeless things thou art alone!
The mind exists, thinks, trembles through the ear,
The memory of the human world is gone,
And time and space seem living only here .