Heard him, in his last dying hour,
Warn others from the thirst of power;
Adjure the orphan of his friend
Pardon and needful aid to lend,
If heaven vouchsaf'd her yet to live;
For, could she pity and forgive,
'Twould wing his penitential prayer
With better hope of mercy there!
Then did he rank and lands resign,
With all that was in justice mine;
And I, pretending to be vain,
Return'd the world its poor disdain,
But smil'd on Eustace once again!

"Thus vision after vision flew,
Leaving again before my view
That [Errata: The] hollow scene, the scornful crowd,
To which that heart had never bow'd,
Whose tenderness I hourly fed;
While thus I to its nursling said;--

"Be silent, _Love!_ nor from my lip
In faint or hurried language speak!
Be motionless within my eye,
And never wander to my cheek!
Retir'd and passive thou must be,
Or truly I shall banish thee!

"Thou art a restless, wayward sprite,
So young, so tender, and so fair,