But lofty thoughts like gorgeous banners wave
In triumph o’er the citadel of Mind —
Though tossed, perchance, upon a sigh which tells
Of ruined hope, and desolated love;
The eloquence of passion-parted lips
Has softly faded, like the rich perfume
Of burning incense—but a vaporous flame
Of proud defiance scathes the listening world.
Thus goaded on to action by the fire
That madly rages in a wasted heart,