Musing, he said—“So rich, and so addressed,
What can I hope? be, foolish heart, at rest!
Here fate has brought me—now, suppose I write,
If but my Name, and leave it for her sight?”
That instant sank the moon, and Godfrey cried:
“So perish all my Views!” and deeply sighed;
Then, with heroic Motion striding far
And Voice of Valour—“Let us to the War!”
But, as he sighed, he heard approaching feet
Behind those trees so shady and so sweet; 10