Not so our maiden. She, before resign’d, }
Had now the anguish of a wounded mind— 160}
And felt the languid grief that the deserted find. }
On him she had reposed each worldly view,
And when he fail’d, the world itself withdrew,
With all its prospects. Nothing could restore
To life its value; hope would live no more:
Pensive by nature, she can not sustain
The sneer of pity that the heartless feign;
But to the pressure of her griefs gives way,