When longing hath forecast this hour, I have loved
The rescuing tears that loosed my heart: and now
The womanish water wells, I bid it back:
For nature stammers in me, and I see
Imagination hath a grasp of joy
Finer than sense; and my most passionate spirit,
When most it should leap forth, hangs back unwilling
To officer the trembling instruments,
By which delight is served. Back, then, my tears!
Fate rules; reason should fashion me.—And welcome