Poetical remains (1872) :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Frown.

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(From the Italian of Chiabrera.)

When with soft and winning air
Comes my fair,
By her guard of Loves surrounded;
And a smile benignly bright,
Beams delight
On the heart which they have wounded;

Such the charms which she displays,
All who gaze
Wish her ever thus alluring;

Nor again dare hope to meet
Sight so sweet,
Spite of Love himself assuring.

But the pearls, whose lucid hue
Wonder drew,
If in serious mood she closes;
And the look, that gaily glanc'd,
As entranc'd
In reflected thought composes;

Suddenly behold we now
On her brow
Pride enthroned in awful beauty.
Pride? ah no!—but where, my Muse
Wilt thou chuse
Words to satisfy thy duty?

When abroad on orient wings
Eurus springs
O'er the summer seas to revel,
And their feet in rapid race
Print their trace
Where he skims the watery level;

Curling waves with murmuring sound
Form around;
Yet no storm of wrath collected
Speaks that sound, the sign but shows
Ocean knows
How to make her power respected!

Thus we on that brow discern,
Sweetly stern,
Terrors which no pain occasion:
'Tis not anger that is shown;
'Tis alone
Beauty daunting bold invasion:

And that gentle look severe
Charms endear
So transporting to the lover,
Not one thought he more employs
On the joys
Which her beauteous smiles discover!