Once and for all, in this world as in heaven.

This she indeed could offer, but, if more

Were asked, why then, alas! her dream was o'er.

I think no actual covenant had passed

In words between them either first or last,

But that the Prince, though puzzled and perplexed,

Had drawn a just conclusion from his text,

And read her meaning, while the hazard made,

Of certain idle words at random said,

Had sapped his confidence, and served to show

If speech were wise, 'twas wiser to forego.

Once too he wrote a sonnet. They had spent

An afternoon (it was in early Lent)

At that fair angle of the city wall

Which is the English place of burial,

A poet's pilgrimage to Shelley's tomb,—

tomb,—

The holiest spot, Griselda thought, in Rome,—

Rome,—

A place to worship in, perhaps to pray,

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