And so her face was hid; but on her knee
Her hands were clasped, veined, and pale as snow,
And quivering--young Tasso, too, was there.

MADDALO:
Thou seest on whom from thine own worshipped heaven
Thou drawest down smiles--they did not rain on thee. _25

MALPIGLIO:
Would they were parching lightnings for his sake
On whom they fell!

***


SONG FOR 'TASSO'.

[Published by Mrs. Shelley, "Posthumous Poems", 1824.]

1.
I loved--alas! our life is love;
But when we cease to breathe and move
I do suppose love ceases too.
I thought, but not as now I do,
Keen thoughts and bright of linked lore, _5
Of all that men had thought before.
And all that Nature shows, and more.

2.
And still I love and still I think,