"He loved," the Vicar answered, "deeply loved, Loved fondly, truly, fervently; and dared At length to tell his love, but sued in vain;[520] 120 Rejected, yea repelled; and, if with scorn Upon the haughty maiden's brow, 'tis but A high-prized plume which female Beauty wears In wantonness of conquest, or puts on To cheat the world, or from herself to hide 125 Humiliation, when no longer free, _That_ he could brook,[521] and glory in;--but when The tidings came that she whom he had wooed Was wedded to another, and his heart Was forced to rend away its only hope; 130 Then, Pity could have scarcely found on earth An object worthier of regard than he, In the transition of that bitter hour! Lost was she, lost; nor could the Sufferer say That in the act of preference he had been 135 Unjustly dealt with; but the Maid was gone! Had vanished[522] from his prospects and desires; Not by translation to the heavenly choir Who have put off their mortal spoils--ah no! She lives another's wishes to complete,-- 140 'Joy be their lot, and happiness,' he cried, 'His lot and hers, as misery must be mine!'[523] "Such was that strong concussion; but the Man, Who trembled, trunk and limbs, like some huge oak By a fierce tempest shaken, soon resumed 145 The stedfast quiet natural to a mind Of composition gentle and sedate, And, in its movements, circumspect and slow. To books, and to the long-forsaken desk, O'er which enchained by science he had loved 150 To bend, he stoutly re-addressed himself, Resolved to quell his pain, and search for truth[524] With keener appetite (if that might be) And closer industry. Of what ensued Within the heart[525] no outward sign appeared 155 Till a betraying sickliness was seen To tinge his cheek; and through his frame it crept With slow mutation unconcealable; Such universal change as autumn makes In the fair body of a leafy grove 160 Discoloured, then divested. "'Tis affirmed By poets skilled in nature's secret ways That Love will not submit to be controlled By mastery:--and the good Man lacked not friends Who strove to instil this truth into his mind, 165 A mind in all heart-mysteries unversed. 'Go to the hills,' said one, 'remit a while 'This baneful diligence:--at early morn 'Court the fresh air, explore the heaths and woods; 'And, leaving it to others to foretell, 170 'By calculations sage, the ebb and flow 'Of tides, and when the moon will be eclipsed, 'Do you, for your own benefit, construct 'A calendar of flowers, plucked as they blow