University of Virginia Library


27

VII.

Yet, though with awe we check the voice of woe,
We would not—cannot—check the tears that flow!
For ne'er, till now, has fond expecting bliss
Turn'd to a woe so exquisite as this!
The kindest mistress!—but ah!—wherefore dwell
On virtues such as hers?—You know them well!
And could your blood recal her—what a flood
Of tears in crimson!—for you'd weep in blood.