Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 2.djvu/302

266 Flashed the thrilled Spirit's love-devouring heat;

In that absorbing sigh perchance more blest

Than vulgar minds may be with all they seek possest.

LXXX.

His life was one long war with self-sought foes,

Or friends by him self-banished; for his mind

Had grown Suspicion's sanctuary, and chose,

For its own cruel sacrifice, the kind,

'Gainst whom he raged with fury strange and blind.

But he was phrensied,—wherefore, who may know?

Since cause might be which Skill could never find;

But he was phrensied by disease or woe,

To that worst pitch of all, which wears a reasoning show.

LXXXI.

For then he was inspired, and from him came,

As from the Pythian's mystic cave of yore,