LXIV。
ThenforonehourinHelen’sheartre—born，Awokethefatallovethatwasofold，Eresheknewall，andthecoldcheeksoutworn，Shekiss’d，shekiss’dthehairofwastedgold，Thehandsthatne’erherbodyshouldenfold;
Thenslowshefollow’dwherethebearersled，Follow’ddeadParisthroughthefrozenwoldBacktothetownwhereallmenwish’dherdead。
LXV。
Perchanceitwasasin，Iknownot，this！