Untarnished and beloved, remembered long;—
That was my choice, my hope. Can I now waver?
Shall I—having so well begun—
Step up into a throne above the throng,
And smiling on them from the hated height,
Take life at ease? Nay, when ’tis reasoned so,
’Tis hideous.—But, oh! thou treacherous enemy,
Thou selfish and unanswerable passion,
That bluntest resolution, and criest down
The voice of virtue! Margaret, Margaret!