VII.
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change came o'er the spirit of my dream.The Lady of his love;--Oh! she was changedAs by the sickness of the soul; her mindHad wandered from its dwelling, and her eyes 170They had not their own lustre, but the lookWhich is not of the earth; she was becomeThe Queen of a fantastic realm; her thoughtsWere combinations of disjointed things;And forms, impalpable and unperceivedOf others' sight, familiar were to hers.And this the world calls frenzy; but the wiseHave a far deeper madness--and the glanceOf melancholy is a fearful gift;What is it but the telescope of truth? 180Which strips the distance of its fantasies,And brings life near in utter nakedness,Making the cold reality too real![j][51]
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