Scenes, long since forgotten, had been peopling his solitude with one still cherished image paramount over all; one young fair face, whose sweet eyes seemed to look upon him reproachfully:...

We need a microscope with higher power.

Nor far they steppèd when on culm'inant height / where stretcht a gem-enamel'd mead they stood; / Smaragd and Ruby-strewn, so rich the sight / presumed 'twas Paradisial floor they trod.

Now should men see / Two women faster welded in one love / Than pairs of wedlock.