3530To raise an active heat, which nimbly skips
In every vein like fays in Ob'ron's house.
But when he was no ghost, and hoped to merit
Love for love, he found her of another spirit.
'Away, fond monk!' quoth she, 'dost think that I
Into a sea of grief will wade with thee?
And drown my fortunes? make an earldom die?
Dost think humility resides with me?
Canst think I'll choose a pebble, slight a pearl,
Marry a threadbare cowl and scorn an earl?