As he before had done. He did not heed

Their pause nor signs: his heart was out of joint,

And shook (till now unshaken) like a reed,

As he looked down upon his children gone,

And felt—though done with life—he was alone.[470]

CXVIII.

But 't was a transient tremor:—with a spring

Upon the Russian steel his breast he flung,

As carelessly as hurls the moth her wing

Against the light wherein she dies: he clung