But when he saw the Evening star above

Leucadia's far-projecting rock of woe,

And hailed the last resort of fruitless love, [14.B.]

He felt, or deemed he felt, no common glow:

And as the stately vessel glided slow[143]

Beneath the shadow of that ancient mount,

He watched the billows' melancholy flow,

And, sunk albeit in thought as he was wont,[ex]

More placid seemed his eye, and smooth his pallid front.