Now, where the swift Rhone cleaves his way between

Heights which appear as lovers who have parted[ki] [337]

In hate, whose mining depths so intervene,

That they can meet no more, though broken-hearted:

Though in their souls, which thus each other thwarted,

Love was the very root of the fond rage

Which blighted their life's bloom, and then departed:—

Itself expired, but leaving them an age

Of years all winters,—war within themselves to wage:[kj]