Chapter V

Be once more merciful and cheering to us, light,
pale brightness of winter that will bathe our
brows when of an afternoon we both go into the
garden to breathe in one last warmth.

We loved you long ago with so great a pride, with
so great a love springing from our hearts, that
one supreme and gentle and kindly flame is due to
us at this hour when grief awaits us.

You are that which no man ever forgets, from the
day when you first struck his victorious arms,
and when, on the coming of evening, you slept in
his eyes with your dead splendour and vanquished
strength.

And for us you were always the visible fervour
that, being everywhere diffused and shining in
fevers of deep and stinging ardour, seemed to
start for the infinite from our heart.