His soul, that never Love’s sweet influence felt,
By social sympathy could never melt;
With stern command to Albert’s charge he gave
To waft Palemon o’er the distant wave.
“The ship was laden and prepared to sail,
And only waited now the leading gale:
’Twas ours, in that sad period, first to prove,
The poignant torments of despairing love;
The impatient wish, that never feels repose,
Desire, that with perpetual current flows!