44
THE TRIUMPHS
But the quick sally of a peevish word,
That love revokes the moment it is heard:
Or haply mirth, in mimic wrath exprest,
A feign'd forbiddance utter'd but in jest:
To this short hope her sinking spirit clung,
To see his softening eyes refute his tongue.
Ah, fruitless hope! for there she cannot find
The well-known signals of the friendly mind,
Stern contradiction, with the frown of fate,
On his dark visage reign'd in sullen state;
Felt in each feature, in each accent shown,
Lower'd in his look, and thunder'd in his tone,
Hence the warm bosom of the lively Fair
Now shivers with the chill of blank despair:
Now disappointment's thick'ning shadows roll
A cloud of horror o'er the darken'd soul;
And fancy, in a sick delirium tost,
Gives double value to each pleasure lost,
The blasted joys she labours to forget,
Rush on her mind, and waken keen regret:
That love revokes the moment it is heard:
Or haply mirth, in mimic wrath exprest,
A feign'd forbiddance utter'd but in jest:
To this short hope her sinking spirit clung,
To see his softening eyes refute his tongue.
Ah, fruitless hope! for there she cannot find
The well-known signals of the friendly mind,
Stern contradiction, with the frown of fate,
On his dark visage reign'd in sullen state;
Felt in each feature, in each accent shown,
Lower'd in his look, and thunder'd in his tone,
Hence the warm bosom of the lively Fair
Now shivers with the chill of blank despair:
Now disappointment's thick'ning shadows roll
A cloud of horror o'er the darken'd soul;
And fancy, in a sick delirium tost,
Gives double value to each pleasure lost,
The blasted joys she labours to forget,
Rush on her mind, and waken keen regret:
