Each beauty, born of each, grows clearer and more clear,
Mine henceforth, ever mine!
XLII
But if I would retrace
Effect, in Art, to cause,—corroborate, erase
What 's right or wrong i' the lines, test fancy in my brain
By fact which gave it birth? I re-peruse in vain
The verse, I fail to find that vision of delight
I' the Bazzi's lost-profile, eye-edge so exquisite.
And, music: what? that burst of pillared cloud by day