"My breast has been all weakness, is so yet;
But still I think I can collect my mind;[AP]
My blood still rushes where my spirit's set,
As roll the waves before the settled wind;
My heart is feminine, nor can forget—
To all, except one image, madly blind;
So shakes the needle, and so stands the pole,
As vibrates my fond heart to my fixed soul.[AQ]
CXCVII.
"I have no more to say, but linger still,