With more capacity for love than earth S30 335 And half mistook for fate the acts of will: Too high for common selfishness, he could At times resign his own for others' good, But not in pity, not because he ought, But in some strange perversity of thought, 340 That sway'd him onward with a secret pride To do what few or none would do beside ; And this same impulse would, in tempting time, Mislead his spirit equally to crime; So much he soar'd beyond, or sunk beneath 345 The men with whom he felt condemn'd to breathe, And long'd by good or ill to separate Himself from all who shared his mortal state; His mind abhorring this had fix'd her throne XIX. With all that chilling mystery of mein, And seeming gladness to remain unseen; He had (if 'twere not nature's boon) an art Of fixing memory on another's heart: It was not love perchance-nor hate-nor aught 365 That words can image to express the thought; But they who saw him did not see in vain, And once beheld, would ask of him again : And those to whom he spake remember'd well, And on the words, however light, would dwell: 370 None knew, nor how, nor why, but he entwined Himself perforce around the hearer's mind; There he was stamp'd, in liking, or in hate, If greeted once; however brief the date 375 That friendship, pity, or aversion knew, 380 XX. 385 There is a festival, where knights and dames, 390 395 XXI. |