And manhood fused with female grace
In such a sort, the child would twine
A trustful hand, unasked, in thine,
And find his comfort in thy face;
All these have been, and thee mine eyes
Have looked on: if they looked in vain
My shame is greater who remain,
Nor let thy wisdom make me wise.
In the poem which we now extract, we think our readers will recognize the force which pathos receives by its connection with intense and excursive thought:
One writes, that “Other friends remain,”