’Tis she!—but why that bleeding bosom gored,
Why dimly gleams the visionary sword?
Oh ever beauteous, ever friendly! tell, 5
Is it, in heaven, a crime to love too well?
To bear too tender, or too firm a heart,
To act a lovers, or a Roman’s part?
Is there no bright reversion in the sky,
For those who greatly think, or bravely die? 10
Why bade ye else, ye Powers! her soul aspire
Above the vulgar flight of low desire?