Текст песни
As Hermes once took to his feathers light
When lulled Argus, baffled, swooned and slept
So on a Delphic reed, my idle spright
So played, so charmed, so conquered, so bereft
The dragon-world of all its hundred eyes
And seeing it asleep, so fled away
Not to pure Ida with its snow-cold skies
Nor unto Tempe, where Jove grieved a day
But to that second circle of sad Hell
Where in the gust, the whirlwind, and the flaw
Of rain and hail-stones, lovers need not tell
Their sorrows Pale were the sweet lips I saw
Pale were the lips I kissed, and fair the form
I floated about that melancholy storm