That I would have thee in my dwelling-place;
Yea, like a despot, I would see thee led
Straight to the altar, with a tear unshed,
A wordless woe imprinted on thy face.
XIV.
I wanted thee. I yearned for thee afar.
"She shall be mine," I cried, "and mine alone.
A Gorgon grief may change me into stone
If I be baulk'd." I hankered for a star,
And soar'd, in thought, to where the angels are,