Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 5.djvu/653

CANTO II.] No, no;—they woo and clasp us to their spheres,

Dissolve this clog and clod of clay before

Its hour, and merge our soul in the great shore.

Strip off this fond and false identity!—

Who thinks of self when gazing on the sky?

And who, though gazing lower, ever thought,

In the young moments ere the heart is taught

Time's lesson, of Man's baseness or his own?

All Nature is his realm, and Love his throne.

XVII.

Neuha arose, and Torquil: Twilight's hour

Came sad and softly to their rocky bower,

Which, kindling by degrees its dewy spars,

Echoed their dim light to the mustering stars.

Slowly the pair, partaking Nature's calm,

Sought out their cottage, built beneath the palm;

Now smiling and now silent, as the scene;

Lovely as Love—the Spirit!—when serene.

The Ocean scarce spoke louder with his swell,

Than breathes his mimic murmurer in the shell,