XIX.

But thou! thine hour of agony is o’er, And thy brief race in brilliance hath been run; While Faith, that bids fond nature grieve no more, Tells that thy crown--though not on earth--is won. Thou, of the world so early left, hast known Nought but the bloom and sunshine--and for thee, Child of propitious stars! for thee alone, The course of love ran smooth[62] and brightly free. Not long such bliss to mortal could be given: It is enough for earth to catch one glimpse of heaven.