Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
And what is faith, love, virtue unassayed Alone, without exterior help sustained?
Where eldest Night And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold Eternal anarchy amidst the noise Of endless wars, and by confusion stand; For hot, cold, moist, and dry, four champions fierce, Strive here for mast'ry.
What is dark within me, illumine.
The rising world of waters dark and deep.
Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment?