("' Toi, Toujours ' Toi.") [Xxxix., 1823] To Thee, All Time To Thee, My Lyre A Voice Shall Be! Above All Earthly Fashion, Above Mere Mundane Rage, Your Mind Made It My Passion To Write For Noblest Stage. Whoe'Er You Be, Send Blessings To Her - She Was Sister Of My Soul Immortal, Free! My Pride, My Hope, My Shelter, My Resource, When Green Hoped Not To Gray To Run Its Course; She Was Enthron'D Virtue Under Heaven'S Dome, My Idol In The Shrine Of Curtained Home.