And every hour believed success was near, Till there was nothing left to hope or fear. It must be own'd that in this strife of hearts, 100 Man has advantage--has superior arts. The lover's aim is to the nymph unknown, Nor is she always certain of her own; Or has her fears, nor these can so disguise, } But he who searches, reads them in her eyes, } In the avenging frown, in the regretting sighs: } These are his signals, and he learns to steer The straighter course whenever they appear. * * * * * "Pass we ten years, and what was Clelia's fate?" At an attorney's board alert she sate, 110 Not legal mistress: he with other men Once sought her hand, but other views were then; And when he knew he might the bliss command, He other [blessing] sought, without the hand; For still he felt alive the lambent flame, And offer'd her a home--and home she came. There, though her higher friendships lived no more, She loved to speak of what she shared before-- "Of the dear Lucy, heiress of the hall-- } Of good Sir Peter--of their annual ball, 120 } And the fair countess!--Oh! she loved them all!" } The humbler clients of her friend would stare, The knowing smile--but neither caused her care; She brought her spirits to her humble state, And soothed with idle dreams her frowning fate. * * * * *