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.