NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. Note 1, page 128, stanza xlv. For none likes more to hear himself converse. Note 2, page 134, stanza lxxi. That e'er by precious metal was held in, This dress is Moorish, and the bracelets and bar are worn in the manner described. The reader will perceive hereafter, that as the mother of Haidee was of Fez, her daughter wore the garb of the country. Note 3, page 135, stanza lxxii, A like gold bar above her instep roll'd. The bar of gold above the instep is a mark of sovereign rank in the women of the families of the deys, and is worn as such by their female relatives. Note 4, page 135, stanza Ixxiii. Her person if allow'd at large to run. This is no exaggeration; there were four women whom I remember to have seen, who possessed their hair in this profusion; of these, three were English, the other was a Levantine. Their hair was of that length and quantity, that, when let down, it almost entirely shaded the person, so as nearly to render dress a superfluity. Of these, only one had dark hair; the Oriental's had, perhaps, the lightest colour of the four. Note 5, page 147, stanza cvii. Oh Hesperus! thou bringest all good things. Εσπερε παντα φερεις Φερεις οινον φερεις αιγα Φερεις ματερι παιδα. Fragment of Sappho. Note 6, page 147, stanza cviii. Soft hour! which wakes the wish and melts the heart. "Era gia l' ora che volge 'l disio, "A naviganti, e 'ntenerisce il cuore ; " Che paia 'l giorno pianger che si muore." This last line is the first of Gray's Elegy, taken by him without acknowledgment. Note 7, page 147, stanza cix. Some hands unseen strew'd flowers upon his tomb. DON JUAN. CANTO IV. I. NOTHING SO difficult as a beginning II. But Time, which brings all beings to their level, While youth's hot wishes in our red veins revel, III. As boy, I thought myself a clever fellow, And wish'd that others held the same opinion; They took it up when my days grew more mellow, And other minds acknowledged my dominion: Now my sere fancy "falls into the yellow Leaf," and imagination droops her pinion, And the sad truth which hovers o'er my desk Turns what was once romantic to burlesque. IV. And if I laugh at any mortal thing, Some have accused me of a strange design I don't pretend that I quite understand A novel word is my vocabulary. VI. To the kind reader of our sober clime This way of writing will appear exotic; Pulci was sire of the half-serious rhyme, Who sang when chivalry was more Quixotic, And revell'd in the fancies of the time, True knights, chaste dames, huge giants, kings despotic; But all these, save the last, being obsolete, I choose a modern subject as more meet VII. How I have treated it, I do not know; Perhaps no better than they have treated me Who have imputed such designs as show Not what they saw, but what they wish'd to see; But if it gives them pleasure, be it so, This is a liberal age, and thoughts are free: Meantime Apollo plucks me by the ear, VIII. Young Juan and his lady-love were left With his rude scythe such gentle bosoms; he Sigh'd to behold them of their hours bereft, Though foe to love; and yet they could not be Meant to grow old, but die in happy spring, Before one charm or hope had taken wing. IX. Their faces were not made for wrinkles, their A long and snake-like life of dull decay X. They were alone once more; for them to be Cut from its forest root of years-the river XI. The heart-which may be broken: happy they! Break with the first fall: they can ne'er behold |