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In quest of his beloved bells, though none
For certain seemed to know where they had gone,
Still he would travel over land and mere,—
With this resolve his soul was soon aglow.
XI
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To France he first of all did make his way,—
Enduring hardship on the boistrous sea,
And dangers on the shores of sullen foes,
But since to hearts of purpose strong no woes
Insufferable seem, thus agony,
Of any kind, could not his zeal allay.
He reached the wondrous city of the Seine,
The metropole of Europe’s art and modes,
Where ever dazzling Show and Pleasure sweet,
Like youths in Daphne’s grove alaughing meet,
Where Grecian deities have their abodes,
And genius hath reared a matchless fane.ssss1
ssss1 The Louvre.
Where stands the armless Venus, unto whom
Poor Heine cried for help, but none received,
Since pagan culture is quite impotent
To save a soul in doubt and error spent,
Though for poor Heine none needs to be grieved,
Whose glory mingles with the maid of foam.
Great Paris, scene of most momentous deeds,