Oxford, May 30, 1820

Shame on this faithless heart! that could allow Such transport, though but for a moment's space; Not while—to aid the spirit of the place— The crescent moon clove with its glittering prow The clouds, or night-bird sang from shady bough; But in plain daylight:—She, too, at my side, Who, with her heart's experience satisfied, Maintains inviolate its slightest vow! Sweet Fancy! other gifts must I receive; Proofs of a higher sovereignty I claim; Take from her brow the withering flowers of eve, And to that brow life's morning wreath restore; Let her be comprehended in the frame Of these illusions, or they please no more.