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THE PRINCESS;
Than sick men health—yours, yours, not mine—but halfWithout you, with you, whole; and of those halvesYou worthiest; and howe'er you block and barYour heart with system out from mine, I holdThat it becomes no man to nurse despair,But in the teeth of clench'd antagonismsTo follow up the worthiest till he die:Yet that I came not all unauthorizedBehold your father's letter.'On one kneeKneeling, I gave it, which she caught, and dash'dUnopen'd on the marble: a tide of fierceInvective seem'd to wait behind her lips,As waits a river level with the damReady to burst and flood the world with foam:And so she would have spoken, but there roseA hubbub in the court of half the maidsGather'd together; from the illumin'd hallLong lanes of splendour slanted o'er a pressOf snowy shoulders, thick as herded ewes,
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