Iv

The diver at Sorrento from beneath The vitreous indigo, who swiftly riseth, By will and not by action as it seemeth, Moves not more smoothly, and no thought surmiseth How she takes motion from the lustrous sheath Which, as the trace behind the swimmer, gleameth Yet presseth back the aether where it streameth. To her whom it adorns this sheath imparteth The living motion from the light surrounding; And thus my nobler parts, to grief's confounding, Impart into my heart a peace which starteth From one round whom a graciousness is cast Which clingeth in the air where she hath past.