 | Zóphiël ; or, the bride of seven |  |
XLIV.
“My friend, O Zóphiël! only once I went:Then, though bold Antreon bore me, such the pain,
I came back to the air so racked and spent,
That for a whole sweet moon I had no joy again.
| Zóphiël ; or, the bride of seven | |