And he had learned to love,—­I know not why,
   For this in such as him seems strange of mood, —
   The helpless looks of blooming infancy,
   Even in its earliest nurture; what subdued,
   To change like this, a mind so far imbued
   With scorn of man, it little boots to know;
   But thus it was; and though in solitude
   Small power the nipped affections have to grow,
In him this glowed when all beside had ceased to glow.

LV.

   And there was one soft breast, as hath been said,
   Which unto his was bound by stronger ties
   Than the church links withal; and, though unwed,
   that love was pure, and, far above disguise,
   Had stood the test of mortal enmities
   Still undivided, and cemented more
   By peril, dreaded most in female eyes;
   But this was firm, and from a foreign shore
Well to that heart might his these absent greetings pour!

   The castled crag of Drachenfels
   Frowns o’er the wide and winding Rhine. 
   Whose breast of waters broadly swells
   Between the banks which bear the vine,
   And hills all rich with blossomed trees,
   And fields which promise corn and wine,
   And scattered cities crowning these,
   Whose far white walls along them shine,
   Have strewed a scene, which I should see
   With double joy wert thou with me!

   And peasant girls, with deep blue eyes,
   And hands which offer early flowers,
   Walk smiling o’er this paradise;
   Above, the frequent feudal towers
   Through green leaves lift their walls of grey,
   And many a rock which steeply lours,
   And noble arch in proud decay,
   Look o’er this vale of vintage bowers: 
   But one thing want these banks of Rhine, —
   Thy gentle hand to clasp in mine!

   I send the lilies given to me;
   Though long before thy hand they touch,
   I know that they must withered be,
   But yet reject them not as such;
   For I have cherished them as dear,
   Because they yet may meet thine eye,
   And guide thy soul to mine e’en here,
   When thou behold’st them drooping nigh,
   And know’st them gathered by the Rhine,
   And offered from my heart to thine!

   The river nobly foams and flows,
   The charm of this enchanted ground,
   And all its thousand turns disclose
   Some fresher beauty varying round;
   The haughtiest breast its wish might bound
   Through life to dwell delighted here;
   Nor could on earth a spot be found
   To Nature and to me so dear,
   Could thy dear eyes in following mine
   Still sweeten more these banks of Rhine!

LVI.