LXXIII.

And thus I am absorbed, and this is life:-- I look upon the peopled desert past, As on a place of agony and strife, Where, for some sin, to Sorrow I was cast, To act and suffer, but remount at last[jj] With a fresh pinion; which I feel to spring, Though young, yet waxing vigorous as the Blast Which it would cope with, on delighted wing, Spurning the clay-cold bonds which round our being cling.[jk][321]