It means, perchance, that I must make an end
Of all these things, and burn them as a fee
To my Despair, when down upon my knee.
O piteous thing! have pity; be my friend;
Or say, at least, that blessings will descend
On her I love, on her if not on me!
VII.
The Shape did smile; and, wildly, with a start,
Did shrivel up, as when a fire is spent,
Whereof the smoke obscured the firmament.