XLI.

But when he saw the Evening star above Leucadia's far-projecting rock of woe, And hailed the last resort of fruitless love,[14.B.] He felt, or deemed he felt, no common glow: And as the stately vessel glided slow[143] Beneath the shadow of that ancient mount, He watched the billows' melancholy flow, And, sunk albeit in thought as he was wont,[ex] More placid seemed his eye, and smooth his pallid front.