A lovely being, scarcely formed or moulded,
A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded;
XLIV.
Rich, noble, but an orphan—left an only
Child to the care of guardians good and kind—
But still her aspect had an air so lonely;
Blood is not water; and where shall we find
Feelings of Youth like those which overthrown lie
By Death, when we are left, alas! behind,
To feel, in friendless palaces, a home