The ages yet unborn, as though a God
From high Olympus he’d been missioned forth!
And yet his heart was sad—for in his dreams
There broke upon his fancy such a form
As dwelleth only in the Elfin-land.
For her he pined—for her he breathed a sigh—
And prayed to God that she might come to him,
And in his waking moments bid him live.
And as, with gloom and darkness thick’ning round,
He sat and wept for joys that might not be,