XXXVI

Beyond a mortal man impassion'd far

      At these voluptuous accents, he arose,

      Ethereal, flush'd, and like a throbbing star

      Seen mid the sapphire heaven's deep repose;

      Into her dream he melted, as the rose

      Blendeth its odour with the violet,—

      Solution sweet: meantime the frost-wind blows

      Like Love's alarum pattering the sharp sleet

Against the window-panes; St. Agnes' moon hath set.