To succour ever prompt as potent to inspire!
"Dear Jenny Lind!" So then his song addressed her
Who still is "Jenny Lind," and still is dear.
Though Genius praised, and Fashion's crowd caressed her,
She sank not, like some stars, below her sphere
Into those darkening mists
Whose taint the true and tender heart resists.
Her nature fame was powerless to soil,
Whom splendour hardened not, and puffery could not spoil.
How the crowd rushed and crushed, and cheered and clamoured,