And placed them in this ruin; and she wish’d
The Prince had found her in her ancient home;
Then let her fancy flit across the past, 645
And roam the goodly places that she knew;
And last bethought her how she used to watch,
Near that old home, a pool of golden carp;
And one was patch’d and blurr’d and lustreless
Among his burnish’d brethren of the pool; 650
And half asleep she made comparison
Of that and these to her own faded self