“And still I stayed a little more, — Alas! […] Though there were none of his former beings to consort with, yet still he loved to haunt the places of his humanity, and with a beating heart and bursting frame, behold the various occupations and pleasures in which he had formerly joined. […] Sometimes his sword a soldier shews; his rod An angler; still so various is the God. […] The mother, still anxious for his preservation, prevailed upon Vulcan to make him a suit of armour; but after it was done, she refused to fulfil the promise she had made to the god. […] Thou callest back those melodies,     Though now all changed and fled, Be still, be still, and haunt us not     With music from the dead!