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THE GRIEF OF PHOEBUS AT THE LOSS OF HIS LOVE.
Nine times already had Latona's son / Look'd from the highest balcony of heaven / For her, who whilom waked his sighs in vain, / And sighs as vain now wakes in other breasts; / Then seeking wearily, nor knowing where / She dwelt, or far or near, and why delay'd, / He show'd himself to us as one, insane / For grief, who cannot find some loved lost thing: / And thus, for clouds of sorrow held aloof, / Saw not the fair face turn, which, if I live, / In many a page shall praised and honour'd be, / The misery of her loss so changed her mien / That her bright eyes were dimm'd, for once, with tears, / Thereon its former gloom the air resumed.
MACGREGOR.