Even such a Man (inheriting the zeal 75 And from the sanctity of elder times Not deviating,--a priest, the like of whom, If multiplied, and in their stations set, Would o'er the bosom of a joyful land Spread true religion and her genuine fruits) 80 Before me stood that day; on holy ground Fraught with the relics of mortality, Exalting tender themes, by just degrees To lofty raised; and to the highest, last; The head and mighty paramount of truths,-- 85 Immortal life, in never-fading worlds, For mortal creatures, conquered and secured.
That basis laid, those principles of faith Announced, as a preparatory act Of reverence done to the spirit of the place,[516] 90 The Pastor cast his eyes upon the ground; Not, as before, like one oppressed with awe, But with a mild and social cheerfulness; Then to the Solitary turned, and spake.
"At morn or eve, in your retired domain, 95 Perchance you not unfrequently have marked A Visitor--in quest of herbs and flowers;[517] Too delicate employ, as would appear, For one, who, though of drooping mien, had yet From nature's kindliness received a frame 100 Robust as ever rural labour bred."
The Solitary answered: "Such a Form Full well I recollect. We often crossed Each other's path; but, as the Intruder seemed Fondly to prize the silence which he kept, 105 And I as willingly did cherish mine, We met, and passed, like shadows. I have heard, From my good Host, that being crazed in brain By unrequited love, he scaled the rocks,[518] Dived into caves, and pierced the matted woods, 110 In hope to find some virtuous herb of power To cure his malady!" The Vicar smiled,-- "Alas! before to-morrow's sun goes down His habitation will be here: for him That open grave is destined."[HD] "Died he then Of pain and grief?" the Solitary asked, 116 "Do not believe it; never could that be!"[519]
"He loved," the Vicar answered, "deeply loved, Loved fondly, truly, fervently; and dared At length to tell his love, but sued in vain;[520] 120 Rejected, yea repelled; and, if with scorn Upon the haughty maiden's brow, 'tis but A high-prized plume which female Beauty wears In wantonness of conquest, or puts on To cheat the world, or from herself to hide 125 Humiliation, when no longer free, _That_ he could brook,[521] and glory in;--but when The tidings came that she whom he had wooed Was wedded to another, and his heart Was forced to rend away its only hope; 130 Then, Pity could have scarcely found on earth An object worthier of regard than he, In the transition of that bitter hour! Lost was she, lost; nor could the Sufferer say That in the act of preference he had been 135 Unjustly dealt with; but the Maid was gone! Had vanished[522] from his prospects and desires; Not by translation to the heavenly choir Who have put off their mortal spoils--ah no! She lives another's wishes to complete,-- 140 'Joy be their lot, and happiness,' he cried, 'His lot and hers, as misery must be mine!'[523]