V.

For Love hath framed a ditty of regrets,
Tuned to the hollow sobbings on the shore,
A vexing sense, that with like music frets,
And chimes this dismal burthen o’er and o’er,
Saying, Leander’s joys are past and spent,
Like stars extinguish’d in the firmament.

VI.

For ere the golden crevices of morn
Let in those regal luxuries of light,
Which all the variable east adorn,
And hang rich fringes on the skirts of night,
Leander, weaning from sweet Hero’s side,
Must leave a widow where he found a bride.

VII.

Hark! how the billows beat upon the sand! 
Like pawing steeds impatient of delay;
Meanwhile their rider, ling’ring on the land,
Dallies with love, and holds farewell at bay
A too short span.—­How tedious slow is grief! 
But parting renders time both sad and brief.

VIII.

“Alas!” (he sigh’d), “that this first glimpsing light,
Which makes the wide world tenderly appear,
Should be the burning signal for my flight
From all the world’s best image, which is here;
Whose very shadow, in my fond compare,
Shines far more bright than Beauty’s self elsewhere.”

IX.

Their cheeks are white as blossoms of the dark,
Whose leaves close up and show the outward pale,
And those fair mirrors where their joys did spark,
All dim and tarnish’d with a dreary veil,
No more to kindle till the night’s return,
Like stars replenish’d at Joy’s golden urn.

X.

Ev’n thus they creep into the spectral gray,
That cramps the landscape in its narrow brim,
As when two shadows by old Lethe stray,
He clasping her, and she entwining him;
Like trees, wind-parted, that embrace anon,—­
True love so often goes before ’tis gone.

XI.

For what rich merchant but will pause in fear,
To trust his wealth to the unsafe abyss? 
So Hero dotes upon her treasure here,
And sums the loss with many an anxious kiss,
Whilst her fond eyes grow dizzy in her head,
Fear aggravating fear with shows of dread.

XII.

She thinks how many have been sunk and drown’d,
And spies their snow-white bones below the deep,
Then calls huge congregated monsters round,
And plants a rock wherever he would leap;
Anon she dwells on a fantastic dream,
Which she interprets of that fatal stream.

XIII.

Saying, “That honied fly I saw was thee,
Which lighted on a water-lily’s cup,
When, lo! the flower, enamor’d of my bee,
Closed on him suddenly and lock’d him up,
And he was smother’d in her drenching dew;
Therefore this day thy drowning I shall rue.”