And doubting if ’twere best to stay or go,
I cast mine eyes in wistful gaze around,
When from the shades came slow a small and plaintive sound.
“Psyche am I, who love to dwell
In these brown shades, this woody dell,
Where never busy mortal came
Till now, to pry upon my shame.
“At thy feet what thou dost see,
The waters of repentance be,
Which, night and day, I must augment