LXXXI. Love, then, but love within its proper limits, Ethereal lustre, with what sweet persuasion LXXXII. Fraught with this fine intention, and well fenced She, for the future, of her strength convinced, LXXXIII. Her plan she deem'd both innocent and feasible, Not scandal's fangs could fix on much that's seizable, Nothing but what was good, her breast was peaceable— LXXXIV. And if in the mean time her husband died, But heaven forbid that such a thought should cross Her brain, though in a dream! (and then she sigh'd) Never could she survive that common loss; But just suppose that moment should betide, I only say suppose it-inter nos, (This should be entre nous, for Julia thought In French, but then the rhyme would go for nought.) LXXXV. I only say suppose this supposition; Juan being then grown up to man's estate, Would fully suit a widow of condition, Even seven years hence it would not be too late; And in the interim (to pursue this vision) LXXXVI. So much for Julia. Now we'll turn to Juan, Of his own case, and never hit the true one; Thing quite in course, and not at all alarming, LXXXVII. Silent and pensive, idle, restless, slow, But then, I beg it may be understood, LXXXVIII. « Oh Love! in such a wilderness as this, Where transport and security entwine, Here is the empire of thy perfect bliss, And here thou art a god indeed divine. » The bard I quote from does not sing amiss, 5 With the exception of the second line, For that same twining « transport and security>> Are twisted to a phrase of some obscurity. LXXXIX. The poet meant, no doubt, and thus appeals Or love. I wont say more about « entwined » XC. Young Juan wander'd by the glassy brooks, Himself at length within the leafy nooks, Where the wild branch of the cork forest grew; There poets find materials for their books, And every now and then we read them through, So that their plan and prosody are eligible, Unless, like Wordsworth, they prove unintelligible. XCI. He, Juan (and not Wordsworth) so pursued XCII. He thought about himself, and the whole earth, VOL. II. 3 XCIII. In thoughts like these true wisdom may discern Longings sublime, and aspirations high, Which some are born with, but the most part learn To plague themselves withal, they know not why: 'T was strange that one so young should thus concern His brain about the action of the sky; If you think 't was philosophy that this did, XCIV. He pored upon the leaves, and on the flowers, And when he look'd upon his watch again, He found how much old time had been a winner- XCV. Sometimes he turn'd to gaze upon his book, As if 't were one whereon magicians bind |