Don Juan 04-066
Canto the Fourth

 LXVI

Anon her thin wan fingers beat the wall
 In time to his old tune; he changed the theme,
And sung of love; the fierce name struck through all
 Her recollection; on her flash'd the dream
Of what she was, and is, if ye could call
 To be so being; in a gushing stream
The tears rush'd forth from her o'erclouded brain,
Like mountain mists at length dissolved in rain.

George Gordon Byron, Lord Byron (1788-1824) 
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