BEPPO,

a 4

XIV.

One of those forms which flit by us, when w«sArc young, and fix our eyes op every face;And, oh! the loveliness at times we secIn momentary gliding, the soft grace,

The youth, the bloom, the beauty which agree,In many a nameless being we retrace,

Whose course and home we knew not, nor shall

know,

Like the lost Pleiad I scon no more belovr.

XV.

I said that like a picture by GiorgioneVenetian women were, and so they are tParticularly seen from a balcony,

(For beauty’s sometimes best set off afar)

And there, just like a heroine of Goldoni,

They peep from out the blind, or o’er the bar;And, truth to say, they’re mostly very pretty,And rather like to show it, more’s the pity!