There was but one belovéd face on earth,

And that was shining on him: he had looked

Upon it till it could not pass away;50

50

He had no breath, no being, but in hers;

She was his voice; he did not speak to her,[35]

[35]

But trembled on her words; she was his sight,[i][39]

For his eye followed hers, and saw with hers,

Which coloured all his objects:—he had ceased

To live within himself; she was his life,

The ocean to the river of his thoughts,[40]

Which terminated all: upon a tone,

A touch of hers, his blood would ebb and flow,[41]

And his cheek change tempestuously—his heart60

60

Unknowing of its cause of agony.

But she in these fond feelings had no share:

Her sighs were not for him; to her he was

Even as a brother—but no more; 'twas much,

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