Eager already to search in and round 1070 The heavenly forest, dense and living-green, 1071 Which tempered to the eyes the new-born day, Withouten more delay I left the bank, Taking the level country slowly, slowly Over the soil that everywhere breathes fragrance. A softly-breathing air, that no mutation Had in itself, upon the forehead smote me No heavier blow than of a gentle wind, Whereat the branches, lightly tremulous, Did all of them bow downward toward that side Where its first shadow casts the Holy Mountain; Yet not from their upright direction swayed, So that the little birds upon their tops Should leave the practice of each art of theirs; But with full ravishment the hours of prime, Singing, received they in the midst of leaves, That ever bore a burden to their rhymes, Such as from branch to branch goes gathering on Through the pine forest on the shore of Chiassi, 1072 When Eolus unlooses the Sirocco.

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