Life’s doubts and fears,
And, ever waiting on your April smile,
The gift of tears.
VI
You should be close to us as earth and sea,
And yet as far
As Heaven itself. In sooth, I’d have you be
Just what you are.‘
O these poets! I need scarcely say that, after this insidious effusion, I stowed away the present I had intended for Lamia in a secret drawer, reserving it for some more propitious occasion. I hope I am not prejudiced when I say that the verses were scarcely among the Poet’s happier compositions. But diamonds would have lacked lustre, after such metrical adulation.