With many a lingering look they leave

The spot of guilty gladness past: 50

And though they hope, and vow, they grieve,

As if that parting were the last.

The frequent sigh—the long embrace—

The lip that there would cling for ever,

While gleams on Parisina's face

The Heaven she fears will not forgive her,

As if each calmly conscious star

Beheld her frailty from afar—

The frequent sigh, the long embrace,

Yet binds them to their trysting-place. 60

But it must come, and they must part

In fearful heaviness of heart,

With all the deep and shuddering chill

Which follows fast the deeds of ill.