Euphrenia or the Test of Love | ||
XLIV.
There might be seen the ascetic monk,With fast and vigil worn,
Whose sallow, sickly cheek matched well
The parchment soiled and torn;
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Who, with a ruddier hue,
Reflects his gorgeous binding
In colours no less true:
A new arrival looks askant,
Supposing he must be
“The observed of all observers”
In this society.
Euphrenia or the Test of Love | ||