And, as he press’d, he felt it was his own.
Soon through the house was known the glad assent;
The night so dreaded was in comfort spent; 900
War was no more, the destined knot was tied,
And the fond widow made a fearful bride.
Let mortal frailty judge how mortals frail }
Thus in their strongest resolutions fail, }
And, though we blame, our pity will prevail. }
Yet, with that Ghost—for so she thought—in view,