The strain of love’s impassion’d fire!
How every measure clearly told
His heart vibrated with his lyre!
“But vain the sweetness of his song,
In am’rous cadence softly dying!
No hope had he to move the heart
Of her who heeded not his sighing!
“For even, when beyond his wont
He fell on some inspirèd strain,
The wedded lady’s heart scarce moved,—