Picture his pain, his misery, when first His growing wants their proud concealment burst; When the first tears start from his stubborn soul. Big, burning, solitary drops, that roll Down his pale cheek--the momentary gush Of human weakness--till the whirlwind rush Of pride, of shame, had dashed them from his eye, And his swollen heart heaved mad with agony! Then, then the pain--the infinity of feeling-- Words fail to paint its anguish. Reason, reeling, Staggered with torture through his burning brain, While his teeth gnashed with bitterness and pain; Reflection grew a scorpion, speech had fled, And all but madness and despair were dead. XXI. He slept to dream of death, or worse than death; For death were bliss, and the convulsive wrath Of living torture peace, to the dread weight That pressed upon sensation, while the light Of reason gleamed but horror, and strange hosts Of hideous phantasies, like threatening ghosts. Grotesquely mingled, preyed upon his brain: Then would he dream of yesterdays again, Or view to-morrow's terrors thick surround His fancy with forebodings. While the sound Of his own breath broke frightful on his ear, He, bathed in icy sweat, would start in fear, Trembling and pale; then did his glances seem Sad as the sun's last, conscious, farewell gleam Upon the eve of judgment. Such appear His days and nights whom hope has ceased to cheer But grov'llers know it not. The supple slave Whose worthiest record is a nameless grave, Whose truckling spirit bends and bids him kneel, And fawn and vilely kiss a patron's heel-- Even _he_ can cast the cursed suspicious eye, Inquire the _cause_ of _this_--the _reason why_? And stab the sufferer. Then, the tenfold pain To feel a gilded butterfly's disdain!-- A kicking ass, without an ass's sense, Whose only virtue is, pounds, shillings, pence; And now, while ills on ills beset him round, The scorn of such the hopeless Edmund found. XXII. But hope returned, and on the wanderer's ear Breathed its life-giving watchword, _Persevere_! And torn by want, and struggling with despair, These were his words, his fixed resolve and prayer, "Hail perseverance, rectitude of heart, Through life thy aid, thy conquering power impart; Repulsed and broken, blasted, be thou ever A portion of my spirit! Leave me never; Firm, fixed in purpose, watchful, unsubdued, Until my hand hath grasped the prize pursued." CANTO SECOND. I.