Childe Harold's Pilgrimage - Canto the First[;] To Ianthe

1. 1Not in those climes where I have late been straying,
2. 2Though Beauty long hath there been matchless deemed,
3. 3Not in those visions to the heart displaying
4. 4Forms which it sighs but to have only dreamed,
5. 5Hath aught like thee in Truth or Fancy seemed:
6. 6Nor, having seen thee, shall I vainly seek
7. 7To paint those charms which varied as they beamed--
8. 8To such as see thee not my words were weak;
9. 9To those who gaze on thee what language could they speak?

1. 10Ah! may'st thou ever be what now thou art,
2. 11Nor unbeseem the promise of thy Spring--
3. 12As fair in form, as warm yet pure in heart,
4. 13Love's image upon earth without his wing,
5. 14And guileless beyond Hope's imagining!
6. 15And surely she who now so fondly rears
7. 16Thy youth, in thee, thus hourly brightening,
8. 17Beholds the Rainbow of her future years,
9. 18Before whose heavenly hues all Sorrow disappears.

1. 19Young Peri of the West!--'tis well for me
2. 20My years already doubly number thine;
3. 21My loveless eye unmoved may gaze on thee,
4. 22And safely view thy ripening beauties shine;
5. 23Happy, I ne'er shall see them in decline;
6. 24Happier, that, while all younger hearts shall bleed,
7. 25Mine shall escape the doom thine eyes assign
8. 26To those whose admiration shall succeed,
9. 27But mixed with pangs to Love's even loveliest hours decreed.

1. 28Oh! let that eye, which, wild as the Gazelle's,
2. 29Now brightly bold or beautifully shy,
3. 30Wins as it wanders, dazzles where it dwells,
4. 31Glance o'er this page, nor to my verse deny
5. 32That smile for which my breast might vainly sigh
6. 33Could I to thee be ever more than friend:
7. 34This much, dear Maid, accord; nor question why
8. 35To one so young my strain I would commend,
9. 36But bid me with my wreath one matchless Lily blend.

1. 37Such is thy name with this my verse entwined;
2. 38And long as kinder eyes a look shall cast
3. 39On Harold's page, Ianthe's here enshrined
4. 40Shall thus be first beheld, forgotten last:
5. 41My days once numbered--should this homage past
6. 42Attract thy fairy fingers near the Lyre
7. 43Of him who hailed thee loveliest, as thou wast--
8. 44Such is the most my Memory may desire;
9. 45Though more than Hope can claim, could Friendship less require?