But is not honour'd for the mischief done;
The cheat in love may use each villain-art,
And boast the deed that breaks the victim's heart.
210
"Four years were past; I might again have found
Some erring wish, but for another wound:
Lovely my daughter grew, her face was fair;
But no expression ever brighten'd there.
I doubted long, and vainly strove to make
Some certain meaning of the words she spake;