From harp or lute, kind influence to compose
The throbbing pulse—else troubled without end:
Even Joy could tell,[383] Joy craving truce and rest
From her own overflow, what power sedate
On those revolving motions did await
Assiduously—to soothe her aching breast;
And, to a point of just relief, abate
The mantling triumphs of a day too blest.
The following version of the last seven lines of this sonnet is from a MS. copy of it:—
The panting breast else troubled without end: