And adds one more sweet hymn to those that bear
George Herbert’s name. Anon appears a face
More gentle than the rest, it seems, with eyes
Of deep and tender yearning. Silently
The figure turns aside, and by the hearth
Remains aloof, with dreamy gaze intent
Upon the glowing coals. What fantasies
Are imaged there, reflected from his mind,
And striving for the elixir of his touch
And wondrous pen, that give eternal life