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They seem to guard? And had he not long read Her heart's hush'd secret in the soft dark eye Lighted at his approach, and on the cheek Colouring all crimson at his lightest look? This is the truth; his spirit wholly turn'd To stern ambition's dream, to that fierce strife Which leads to life's high places, and reck'd not What lovely flowers might perish in his path.

And here at length is somewhat of revenge: For man's most golden dreams of pride and power Are vain as any woman dreams of love; Both end in weary brow and wither'd heart, And the grave closes over those whose hopes Have lain there long before.