Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 2.djvu/316

280 That tender mystery, will love the more;

For this is Love's recess, where vain men's woes,

And the world's waste, have driven him far from those,

For 'tis his nature to advance or die;

He stands not still, but or decays, or grows

Into a boundless blessing, which may vie

With the immortal lights, in its eternity!

CIV.

'Twas not for fiction chose Rousseau this spot,

Peopling it with affections; but he found

It was the scene which Passion must allot

To the Mind's purified beings; 'twas the ground

Where early Love his Psyche's zone unbound,

And hallowed it with loveliness: 'tis lone,

And wonderful, and deep, and hath a sound,

And sense, and sight of sweetness; here the Rhone

Hath spread himself a couch, the Alps have reared a throne.

CV.

Lausanne! and Ferney! ye have been the abodes

Of Names which unto you bequeathed a name;N22

Mortals, who sought and found, by dangerous roads,

A path to perpetuity of Fame: