The power to gather from the crew Of vulgar thought, their hoard ?—the boast Earth's tribes, and in themselves contain Shall they find this? Or shall they rue Ah! could we dream, when once possest The Twins are left-the leach's fiat, To Thee condemned in pain to pine, And watch the all-else-rejoicing rays That through thy darkened casements shine! To count the moments creep-how slowly! To see the Insect on the wing; In the glad air and sunlight holy, To hear the merry throstle sing! To mark, without, all Earth o'erflow With lusty life, exulting, flushing! Then turn within thy heart, and know The Golden Fountain from thee gushing. Ev'n as a stream whose water strays While o'er it fall the same sweet dews, And life-as if thy life—were there! END OF CHAPTER II. BOOK IV. |