Chapter 6 No.6

Give me the time when loose the reins I flung

Upon the neck of galloping desire.

Give me the angel face that now among

The angels,-tempers Heaven with its fire.

Give the quick step that now is grown so old,

The ready tears-the blaze at thy behest,

If thou dost seek indeed, O Love! to hold

Again thy reign of terror in my breast.

If it be true that thou dost only live

Upon the sweet and bitter pains of man

Surely a weak old man small food can give

Whose years strike deeper than thine arrows can.

Upon life's farthest limit I have stood-

What folly to make fire of burnt wood.

The occasion of the following was probably some more than wonted favor shown to him by Vittoria.