Sic meos amores? ITIOR longe qvam volat aestas, Vanis celebrent desideriis. K. Fides. VOD tot abest animis mihi displicet, at magis illud, Qvod tot inest lingvis, trita loqvella, Fides.— Displicet anne Fides ?-Credatur ab omnibus oro, Deqve Fide mundus desinat esse loqvax. K. Oenone. HERE lies a vale in Ida, lovelier Than all the valleys of Ionian hills. The swimming vapour slopes athwart the glen, Behind the valley topmost Gargarus up The crown of Troas. Hither came at noon Mournful Oenone, wandering forlorn Of Paris, once her playmate on the hills. Her cheek had lost the rose, and round her neck O mother Ida, many-fountained Ida, My eyes are full of tears, my heart of love, TENNYSON. |