Book V, 166

O night, O longing for Heliodora that keepest me awake, O tormenting visions of the dawn full of tears and joy,” is there any relic left of her love for me? Is the memory of my kiss still warm in the cold ashes of fancy? Has she no bed-fellow but her tears and does she clasp to her bosom and kiss the cheating dream of me? Or is there another new love, new dalliance? Mayst thou never look on this, dear lamp ; but guard her well whom I committed to thy care.