"Kyanized regret" is good, as Polonius would say; but we would humbly suggest that Mr. Beckett substitute, in his next edition, "Burnettized," as even better, if that be possible.
Page 72,—
"in hope, perchance
(Like arrant knight of old romance),
That some complacent circumstance
Would end her curiosity."
Page 94,—
"Thereafter, she but knew the charm
Of resting on her lover's arm,
And listening to his voice elate,
As he betimes went on to state
The phases in his own strange fate,
Since last they met."
Page 100.—Speaking of "those of thoughtful mood," he says,—
"With whom I oft have whiled away
The dusky hour upon the deep,
Which most men wisely give to sleep."
There is in this last line a dark, grim, sardonic appreciation of the advantages which common minds have over those that, like the poet's own, have to endure the splendid miseries of genius,—a dark moodiness, like that of a tame Byron remorsefully recalling a wild debauch upon green tea,—that is deliciously funny.
Page 230.—The heroine, who is less poetical by far than her rough servitor, says,—
"Carl! not for all the golden sand
Of famed Pactolus, would I hurt
Thy feelings; 'tis my wont to blurt
My humour thus."