Something too much of this:—but now 'tis past,

And the spell closes with its silent seal—[283]

Long absent Harold re-appears at last;

He of the breast which fain no more would feel,[go]

Wrung with the wounds which kill not, but ne'er heal;

Yet Time, who changes all, had altered him

In soul and aspect as in age: years steal

Fire from the mind as vigour from the limb;

And Life's enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim.