Page:Poems - Tennyson (1843) - Volume 1 of 2.djvu/136

 Yet, indeed, If gazing on divinity disrobed Thy mortal eyes are frail to judge of fair, Unbiass'd by self-profit, oh! rest thee sure That I shall love thee well and cleave to thee, So that my vigour, wedded to thy blood, Shall strike within thy pulses, like a God's, To push thee forward thro' a life of shocks, Dangers, and deeds, until endurance grow Sinew'd with action, and the full-grown will, Circled thro' all experiences, pure law, Commeasure perfect freedom."

"Here she ceased, And Paris ponder'd, and I cried, 'O Paris, Give it to Pallas!' but he heard me not, Or hearing would not hear me, woe is me!

"O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida, Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. Idalian Aphrodite beautiful, Fresh as the foam, new-bathed in Paphian wells,