A prayerful pleading, crying, "But a breath,
One moment of real heaven, there! in his arms!
Close, close! And, for that moment, then these charms,
This body, hell, canst have forevermore!"
And sweet to know, perhaps its song will pour
Into the dull ear of her drowsy lord
A vague suspicion of some secret word,
Borne by the bird,—love's wingéd messenger,—
To her who lies beside him; even her,
His wife, whom still he loves; whom Accolon