The buzzing of a summer fly recall'd,
E'en in her happiest hours, that day,
That lonely visit to the bed of death;
And cast a moment's shadow o'er her heart.
More keenly she remarked the remnant store
Of lulling anodynes: ah! bootless all
To soothe the fever of his aching brain:
The Wise Physician healed him with a touch,
(E'en as we lay our hand on ringing glass
To still the sound that careless fingers make),