XLVII

Fond wretch! and know thyself and him aright.

      Clasp with thy panting soul the pendulous Earth;

      As from a centre, dart thy spirit's light

      Beyond all worlds, until its spacious might

      Satiate the void circumference: then shrink

      Even to a point within our day and night;

      And keep thy heart light lest it make thee sink

When hope has kindled hope, and lured thee to the brink.