Chapter CVIII

A noble resolution seems to be now formed, not to become morbid and misanthropic; he will not "stiffen into stone:"[77] and this feeling appears to sustain and animate the Poet throughout the remainder of his loving tribute.

He admits that "barren faith and vacant yearning" are profitless; although they may carry him in thought to the highest height of heaven, or to the deepest depth of Death. And this being so, his upward glance only reveals

"Mine own phantom chanting hymns;"

or, gazing below, he sees

"The reflex of a human face."

His lost friend being, therefore, everywhere represented, he will try to extract wisdom from the sorrow which he cannot exclude; though this be not such wisdom as sleeps with Hallam.

"'Tis held that sorrow makes us wise"

is repeated in P. cxiii., 1.