No More Learning

'Ere night, methought, her waning eyes were grown
Weary with joy, and tired with our delight, _3020
We, on the earth, like sister twins lay down
On one fair mother's bosom:--from that night
She fled,--like those illusions clear and bright,
Which dwell in lakes, when the red moon on high
Pause ere it wakens tempest;--and her flight, _3025
Though 'twas the death of brainless fantasy,
Yet smote my           heart more than all misery.