XXVIII
Ah, if I only could some way Conspire
"To grasp the sorry Scheme of Things entire";
How soon I'd shatter it to bits—and then
Remould it nearer to my Heart's desire.
XXIX
Or, would some Wingèd Angel ere too Late
"Arrest the yet unfolded Roll of Fate"
And make the stern Recorder change the lines,
And thus restore at ONCE to me My Mate.