ENDYMION. BOOK II. O SOVEREIGN power of love! O grief! O balm ! One sigh doth echo, one poor sob doth pine, One kiss brings honey-dew from buried days. 10 Into some backward corner of the brain; Yet, in our very souls, we feel amain The close of Troilus and Cressid sweet. Hence, pageant history! hence, gilded cheat! Wide sea, that one continuous murmur breeds Along the pebbled shore of memory! Upon thy vaporous bosom, magnified To goodly vessels; many a sail of pride, And golden keel'd, is left unlaunch'd and dry. But wherefore this? What care, though owl did fly About the great Athenian admiral's mast? What care, though striding Alexander past Tenderly her fancy from its maiden snow, 20 Doth more avail than these: the silver flow 30 Of Hero's tears, the swoon of Imogen, Fair Pastorella in the bandit's den, |