Within the room, that seem’d destroy’d—
This room endear’d, and still possess’d,
By this dear party still enjoy’d!
XVII.
Speak to me! speak! that I may know
I am thus happy!—dearest, speak! 130
Those smiles that haunt fond memory show!
Joy makes us doubtful, wavering, weak;
But yet ’tis joy—And all I seek
Is mine! What glorious day is this!