In mad-house pent. He recognized my face,
Although he would anon bewilder’d gaze.
In changing tones which shed a ling’ring light[1231]
Awhile upon his soul, but swiftly turn’d
To fierce embitter’d grief, he told me there
His all-absorbing tale. ’Twas thus he spoke:
“They call me mad. And hour by hour I’m watch’d
By lurking keepers, who with looks askance,[1232]
Would search my thoughts, and deem themselves unseen,
For when I would return their gaze, they droop