It is bitter glad
Even unto tears. Its meaning filleth it,
A portion of most secret life: to wit:--
Each human pulse shall keep the sense it had
With all, though the mind's labour run to nought.
4. A Venetian Pastoral, by Giorgione; in the Louvre.
(In this picture, two cavaliers and an undraped woman are seated in
the grass, with musical instruments, while another woman dips a vase
into a well hard by, for water.)
Water, for anguish of the solstice,--yea,
Over the vessel's mouth still widening
Listlessly dipt to let the water in
With slow vague gurgle. Blue, and deep away,
The heat lies silent at the brink of day.
Now the hand trails upon the viol-string
That sobs; and the brown faces cease to sing,
Mournful with complete pleasure. Her eyes stray
In distance; through her lips the pipe doth creep
And leaves them pouting; the green shadowed grass
Is cool against her naked flesh. Let be:
Do not now speak unto her lest she weep,--
Nor name this ever. Be it as it was:--
Silence of heat, and solemn poetry.
5. "Angelica rescued from the Sea-monster," by Ingres; in the
Luxembourg.
A remote sky, prolonged to the sea's brim:
One rock-point standing buffetted alone,
Vexed at its base with a foul beast unknown,
Hell-spurge of geomaunt and teraphim:
A knight, and a winged creature bearing him,
Reared at the rock: a woman fettered there,
Leaning into the hollow with loose hair
And throat let back and heartsick trail of limb.
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