I thought he might obtain from thee a look,
As Dian's self will smile upon a brook,
And make it glad, though deaf to its desire,
And tinge its ripples with a tender fire,
And make it thankful in its lonely nook.
X.
I thought to win thee ere the waning days
Had caught the snow, ere yet a word of mine
Had pall'd upon thee in the summer shine;
And I was fain to meet thee in the ways