Then liked I no one wholly; and my will
In love, as in all other earthly states,
A choice must make,—take one of different boons,
And all imperfect. Why should not my love
Serve thus my judgment? Grace could stand this test,
And life with one like her so sweet could be!
LIX.
I thought; but all my thinking stirr’d but thought
Until, one time, I mused of other days;
How once, and at the merest hint of love,