XXI

Thenceforth, whatever impulse stirred below,

In the deep heart beneath that childish breast,

Those lips were sealed, and though the eye would glow,

Yet the brow wore an air of perfect rest;

Cheerful, content, with calm though strong control

He shut the temple-portals of his soul.

Poems of Henry Timrod; with Memoir · 第 61 / 190 题