We have thirsted long: this apple suits our drouth:
’Tis good for men to halve, think we.
XXXV.
—But say, what seek you, madam? ’Tis enough
That you should have dominion o’er the springs
Domestic and man’s heart: those ways, how rough,
How vile, outside the stately avenue
Where you walk sheltered by your angel’s wings,
Are happily unknown to you.
XXXVI.