LX.
So the depths took thee! Oh! the sullen sense
Of desolation in that hour compress’d!
Dust going down, a speck, amidst th’ immense
And gloomy waters, leaving on their breast
The trace a weed might leave there! Dust!—the thing
Which to the heart was as a living spring
Of joy, with fearfulness of love possess’d,
Thus sinking! Love, joy, fear, all crush’d to this—
And the wide heaven so far—so fathomless th’ abyss!