Veniero monologue (Act 2) — Poems, translated and original

Ungrateful girl! and may not pleasure dwell With pomp? Or dost thou deem his years too many? And know’st not that to such as he, his passion Is an idolatry? Oh! when time has checked The blood’s swift current, and made pale the brow With lofty thought, and blanched stern manhood’s locks, Love comes with boundless power, and sways the heart A sole, unrivalled sovereign. How doth youth Wear his soft yoke? More lightly than he wears The pageant plume, which every fickle wind Stirs at its will, to be thrown careless by, When he shall weary of its pride! To youth Love is the shallow rill that mocks the sunshine, Wasting its strength in idle foam away:-- To age, the river, silent, broad, and deep-- Hiding the wealth of years within its breast-- Baffling the vain eye that would read its depths-- Broader and deeper growing, as the channel Of life wears on!