Xlviii

Who wants some other show Of soul, may seek elsewhere--this second of the row? What does it give for germ, monadic mere intent Of mind in face, faint first of meanings ever meant? Why, possibly, a grin, that, strengthened, grows a laugh; That, softened, leaves a smile; that, tempered, bids you quaff At such a magic cup as English Reynolds once Compounded: for the witch pulls out of you response Like Garrick's to Thalia, however due may be Your homage claimed by that stiff-stoled Melpomene!