GetPassage urn:cts:latinLit:phi0959.phi001.perseus-eng2:1.6.89-1.6.92 urn:cts:latinLit:phi0959.phi001.perseus-eng2:1.6.89-1.6.92

Deaf to my pray'rs as to my tears thou'rt blind,Thy gate is less obdurate than thy mind.But see, the ruddy morn begins to rise,And paints with rosy streaks the eastern skies,