Translations. - Milton's Italian Poems. Iv.
Diodati--and I muse to tell the tale-- This stubborn I, that Love was wont despise And make a laughter of his snares, unwise, Am fallen--where honest feet will sometimes fail. Not golden tresses, not a cheek vermeil, Dazzle me thus; but, in a new-world guise, A foreign Fair my heart beatifies-- With mien where high-souled modesty I hail; Eyes softly splendent with a darkness dear; A speech that more than one tongue vassal hath; A voice that in the middle hemisphere Might make the tired moon wander from her path; While from her eyes such gracious flashes shoot That stopping hard my ears were little boot.
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"Diodati--and I muse to tell the tale--..."
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