How fares it with your prayers?”
XXIV.
Soon after that,
One day, while troubled much, I met by chance,
My Haydn, half restored, outside his room.
For once, he sat alone; and, seeing me,—
“Why, friend, what accident is this?” he ask’d.
“In tears, too, tears?—Tell now, what sullen storm
Has left such heavy drops? Did it not know
That these too tender lids might droop? if droop,