With thoughts befitting his superior mind.

"Who only sorrows when she sees him pained,
Then knows to pluck away pain's fiercest dart;
Or, love arresting, ere its gaol is gained
Steal half its venom ere it reach his heart.

"'Tis the soul's food--the fervid must adore--
For this the heathen, insufficed with thought
Moulds him an idol of the glittering ore
Or shines his smiling goddess, marble-wrought.

"What bliss for her--e'en on this world of woe
Oh! sire who mak'st yon orb-strown arch thy throne,--
That sees thee, in thy nobles work below,
Shine undefaced!--and calls that work her own!

"This I had hoped: but hope too dear, too great--
Go to thy grave! I feel thee blasted, now--
Give me, fate's sovereign, well to bear the fate
Thy pleasure sends--this, my sole prayer, allow."


XLVI.

Still, fixed on heaven, her earnest eye, all dew,
Seemed as it sought amid the lamps of night
For him her soul addressed; but other view
Far different--sudden from that pensive plight