Canto LI
I cannot love thee as I ought,For love reflects the thing beloved;My words are only words, and movedUpon the topmost froth of thought.
‘Yet blame not thou thy plaintive song,’The Spirit of true love replied;‘Thou canst not move me from thy side,Nor human frailty do me wrong.
‘What keeps a spirit wholly trueTo that ideal which he bears?What record? not the sinless yearsThat breathed beneath the Syrian blue:
‘So fret not, like an idle girl,That life is dash’d with flecks of sin.Abide: thy wealth is gathered in,When Time hath sunder’d shell from pearl.’