05.05.2009, 18:55
ANTEROS.
I do believe that who of Comus' crew
Are numbered, tasting of the berry or root
That in man's heart sows such accursed fruit,
Little thereafter have with Fame to do;
Little with Love ; that yet with heavenly dew
Watches again their nature to transmute ;
Nor e'er forgets how once some wandering foot
With her beneath the stars sweet passage knew.
Oh Love, beware ; than Beatrice's strain
If thine be less, or earthlier, thou art snared ;
And shoutest to the panther-ruling train
A lost lost song, with all thy bosom bared ;
Silenus answers in a broad refrain,
And many-knotted snakes with heads upreared.
I do believe that who of Comus' crew
Are numbered, tasting of the berry or root
That in man's heart sows such accursed fruit,
Little thereafter have with Fame to do;
Little with Love ; that yet with heavenly dew
Watches again their nature to transmute ;
Nor e'er forgets how once some wandering foot
With her beneath the stars sweet passage knew.
Oh Love, beware ; than Beatrice's strain
If thine be less, or earthlier, thou art snared ;
And shoutest to the panther-ruling train
A lost lost song, with all thy bosom bared ;
Silenus answers in a broad refrain,
And many-knotted snakes with heads upreared.