Unsated,—not unsatable,
As paradise gives proof. Deride
Their choice now, thou who sit'st outside!"
XXVII
I cried in anguish: "Mind, the mind,
So miserably cast behind,
To gain what had been wisely lost!
Oh, let me strive to make the most
Of the poor stinted soul, I nipped
Of budding wings, else now equipped