Could I—did prudence yield—receive thee now?”
At her remonstrance hope revived, for oft
He found her words severe, her accents soft;
In eyes that threaten’d tears of pity stood,
And truth she made as gracious as she could.—
But, when she found the dangerous youth would seek
His peace alone, and still his wishes speak, 390
Fearful she grew, that, opening thus his heart,
He might to hers a dangerous warmth impart:
All her objections slight to him appear’d—