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CHILDE HAROLD’S PILGRIMAGE.
[CANTO III.
X.
Secure in guarded coldness, he had mixed[1]
Again in fancied safety with his kind,
And deemed his spirit now so firmly fixed
And sheathed with an invulnerable mind,
That, if no joy, no sorrow lurked behind;
And he, as one, might 'midst the many stand
Unheeded, searching through the crowd to find
Fit speculation—such as in strange land
He found in wonder-works of God and Nature's hand.[2]
XI.
But who can view the ripened rose, nor seek[3]
To wear it? who can curiously behold
The smoothness and the sheen of Beauty's cheek,
Nor feel the heart can never all grow old?[4]
Who can contemplate Fame through clouds unfold
- ↑ Secure in curbing coldness ——.—[MS.]
- ↑ Shines through the wonder-works—of God and Nature's hand.—[MS.]
- ↑
Who can behold the flower at noon, nor seek
To pluck it? who can stedfastly behold.—[MS.] - ↑ Nor feel how Wisdom ceases to be cold.—[MS. erased.]
- ↑ [The Temple of Fame is on the summit of a mountain; "Clouds overcome it;" but to the uplifted eye the mists dispel, and behold the goddess pointing to her star—the star of glory!]
