LVI.

And for a moment all around gave way To that full burst of passion! On his breast, Like a bird panting yet from fear, she lay, But blest--in misery’s very lap--yet blest! O love, love, strong as death!--from such an hour Pressing out joy by thine immortal power; Holy and fervent love! had earth but rest For thee and thine, this world were all too fair How could we thence be wean’d to die without despair?