When thou wouldst fill them with that ocean’s power?
As thine own cheek, before high thoughts grows pale
In some o’erwhelming hour.
Doth not thy frail form sink
Beneath the chain that binds thee to one spot,
When thy heart strives, held down by many a link,
Where thy beloved are not?
Is not thy very soul
Oft in the gush of powerless blessing shed,
Till a vain tenderness, beyond control,