This was the bitter language of the heart: But, while he spake, look, gesture, tone of voice, Though discomposed and vehement, were such As skill and graceful nature might suggest 465 To a proficient of the tragic scene Standing before the multitude, beset With dark events. Desirous to divert[249] Or stem the current of the speaker's thoughts, We signified a wish to leave that place 470 Of stillness and close privacy, a nook That seemed for self-examination made;[250] Or, for confession, in the sinner's need, Hidden from all men's view.[DH] To our attempt He yielded not; but, pointing to a slope 475 Of mossy turf defended from the sun, And on that couch inviting us to rest, Full on[251] that tender-hearted Man he turned A serious eye, and his speech thus[252] renewed. "You never saw, your eyes did never look 480 On the bright form of Her whom once I loved:-- Her silver voice was heard upon the earth, A sound unknown to you; else, honoured Friend! Your heart had borne a pitiable share Of what I suffered, when I wept that loss, 485 And suffer now, not seldom, from the thought That I remember, and can weep no more.-- Stripped as I am of all the golden fruit Of self-esteem; and by the cutting blasts Of self-reproach familiarly assailed; 490 Yet would I not be[253] of such wintry bareness But that some leaf of your regard should hang Upon my naked branches:--lively thoughts Give birth, full often, to unguarded words; I grieve that, in your presence, from my tongue 495 Too much of frailty hath already dropped; But that too much demands still more. "You know, Revered Compatriot--and to you, kind Sir, (Not to be deemed a stranger, as you come Following the guidance of these welcome feet 500 To our secluded vale) it may be told-- That my demerits did not sue in vain To One on whose mild radiance many gazed With hope, and all with pleasure. This fair Bride-- In the devotedness of youthful love, 505 Preferring me to parents, and the choir Of gay companions, to the natal roof, And all known places and familiar sights (Resigned with sadness gently weighing down Her trembling expectations, but no more 510 Than did to her due honour, and to me Yielded, that day, a confidence sublime In what I had to build upon)--this Bride, Young, modest, meek, and beautiful, I led To a low cottage in a sunny bay, 515 Where the salt sea innocuously breaks, And the sea breeze as innocently breathes, On Devon's leafy shores;[DI]--a sheltered hold, In a soft clime encouraging the soil