Then melt, ye elements, that formed in vain
This troubled pulse, and visionary[349] brain!
Fade, ye wild flowers, memorials of my doom!
And sink, ye stars, that light me to the tomb!
5. Truth, ever lovely, since the world began,
The foe of tyrants, and the friend of man,
How can thy words from balmy slumber start
Reposing Virtue, pillowed on the heart!
Yet, if thy voice the note of thunder rolled,
And that were true which Nature never told,