Spring! Spring! where she dwells,
In her sycamore dells:--
Where, fulfilling their fates,
All creatures seek mates--
The thrush, the doe, and the hare!

"Thou art most musical, sweet Yoomy," said Media. "concerning this
spring-land Vivenza. But are not the old autumnal valleys of Porpheero
more glorious than those of vernal Vivenza? Vivenza shows no trophies
of the summer time, but Dominora's full-blown rose hangs blushing on
her garden walls; her autumn groves are glory-dyed."

"My lord, autumn soon merges in winter, but the spring has all the
seasons before. The full-blown rose is nearer withering than the bud.
The faint morn is a blossom: the crimson sunset the flower."



CHAPTER LI
In Which Azzageddi Seems To Use Babbalanja For A Mouth-Piece


Porpheero far astern, the spirits of the company rose. Once again, old
Mohi serenely unbraided, and rebraided his beard; and sitting Turk-
wise on his mat, my lord Media smoking his gonfalon, diverted himself
with the wild songs of Yoomy, the wild chronicles of Mohi, or the
still wilder speculations of Babbalanja; now and then, as from pitcher
to pitcher, pouring royal old wine down his soul.

Among other things, Media, who at times turned over Babbalanja for an