Canto 26 (Along those ledges, up and down…)

Along those ledges, up and down— Through terce, sext, nones, in ritual flight To vespers and mild evening brown; On errand best to angels known, A shadow creepeth, brushed by light. Behold it stealing now over one Reclined aloof upon a stone

High up. 'Tis Vine. And is it I (He muses), I that leave the others, Or do they leave me? One could sigh For Achmed with his hundred brothers: How share the gushing amity With all? Divine philanthropy! For my part, I but love the past— The further back the better; yes, In the past is the true blessedness; The future's ever overcast— The present aye plebeian. So, Mar Saba, thou fine long-ago

Lithographed here, thee do I love; And yet to-morrow I'll remove With right good will; a fickle lover Is only constant as a rover. Here I lie, poor solitaire; But see the brave one over there- The Palm! Come now, to pass the time I'll try an invocation frec Invoke it in a style sublime, Yet sad as sad sincerity:—

"Witness to a watered land, Voucher of a vernal year— St. Saba's Palm, why there dost stand? Would'st thou win the desert here To dreams of Eden? Thy device Intimates a Paradise! Nay, thy plume would give us proof That thou thyself art prince thereof, Fair lord of that domain. "But, lonely dwelling in thy reign, Kinship claimest with the tree Worshipped on Delos in the sea— Apollo's Palm? It ended; Nor dear divinities befriended.— "Thou that pledgest heaven to me, Stem of beauty, shaft of light, Behold, thou hang'st suspended Over Kedron and the night! Shall come the fall? shall time disarm The grace, the glory of the Palm? "Tropic seraph! thou once gone, Who then shall take thy office on— Redeem the waste, and high appear, Apostle of Talassa's year And climes where rivers of waters run? "But braid thy tresses—yet thou'rt fair: Every age for itself must care: Braid thy green tresses; let the grim Awaiter find thee never dim! Serenely still thy glance be sent Plumb down from horror's battlement: Though the deep Fates be concerting A reversion, a subyerting, Still bear thee like the Seraphim."

He loitered, lounging on the stair: Howbeit, the sunlight still is fair. Next meetly here behooves narrate How fared they, seated left but latc Viewless to Vine above their dell, Viewless and quite inaudible: Derwent, and his good gossip cosy, The man of Lesbos, light and rosy, His anecdote about to tell.