The dangerous friendship he had made to close;
It was his torment nightly, ere he slept,
To feel his prudent purpose was not kept.
True, he has wonder’d why the timid maid
Meets him so often, and is not afraid;
And why that female dragon, fierce and keen, }
Has never in their private walks been seen; }
And often he has thought, “What can their silence mean? 440}
“They can have no design, or plot, or plan,—
In fact, I know not how the thing began,—