Smile, nod, and join in the chorus with me:"Vain 'tis to wait till the dolt grows less silly!Play then the fool with the fool, willy-nilly,--
Beside yon precipice,
Through the powerful corn, in the nightly clearness rejoicing;And they reach'd the vineyard, and through its dark shadows proceeded.So he guided her down the numerous tiers of the flat stonesWhich, in an unhewn state, served as steps to the walk through the foliage.Slowly she descended, and placed her hands on his shoulders;And, with a quivering light, the moon through the foliage o'erlook'd them,Till by storm-clouds envelop'd, she left the couple in darkness.Then the strong youth supported the maiden, who on him was leaning;She, however, not knowing the path, or observing the rough steps,Slipp'd as she walk'd, her foot gave way, and she well nigh was falling.Hastily held out his arm the youth with nimbleness thoughtful,And held up his beloved one; she gently sank on his shoulders,Breast was press'd against breast, and cheek against cheek, and so stood heFix'd like a marble statue, restrained by a firm resolution;He embraced her no closer, thoughall her weight he supported;So he felt his noble burden, the warmth of her bosom,And her balmy breath, against his warm lips exhaling,Bearing with manly feelings the woman's heroical greatness.
Myriad souls of living men?
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