Hope, fear, love’s ecstasy, and blank despair?
A moment’s silence ere the plaudits rise,
Till like a storm they beat the trembling walls,
And white hands plash like wave-crests to the skies.
Alas! ’tis o’er, the jealous curtain falls;
And as the tumult of our rapture dies,
A misty curtain veils our happy eyes.