To see their anguish, penury, and shame, 800
How base, how low, how groveling they became.
I could not speak my purpose, but my eyes
And my expression bade the creature rise.
“Yet, O! that woman’s look! my words are vain
Her mix’d and troubled feelings to explain;
True, there was shame and consciousness of fall, }
But yet remembrance of my love withal, }
And knowledge of that power which she would now recal. }
“But still the more that she to memory brought,