III.
Though JOY might endeavour, with kisses and wiles, To lure it away to
his household of smiles: From the daylight he lived in it turn'd in
affright, To nestle with SORROW in climates of night.
IV.
When it came upon earth, 'twas to choose a career, The brightest and
best that is left to a TEAR; To hallow delight, and bestow the relief
Denied by despair to the fulness of grief.
V.
Few repell'd it--some bless'd it--wherever it came; Whether soft'ning
their sorrow, or soothing their shame; And the joyful themselves, though
its name they might fear, Oft welcom'd the calming approach of the TEAR!
VI.
Years on years have worn onward, as--watch'd from above--Speeds that
meek spirit yet on its labour of love; Still the exile of Heav'n, it
ne'er shall away, Every heart has a home for it, roam where it may!
For the first few minutes after she had concluded the ode, Hermanric was
hardly conscious that she had ceased; and when at length she looked up
at him, her mute petition for approval had an eloquence which would have
been marred to the Goth at that moment, by the utterance of single word.
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