All that we behold is full of blessings.

For nature then to me was all in all.

The stars of midnight shall be dear To her; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.

There is a luxury in self-dispraise; And inward self-disparagement affords To meditative spleen a grateful feast.

Ten thousand saw I at a glance, tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

I thought of Chatterton, the marvellous boy, The sleepless soul that perished in his pride; Of him who walked in glory and in joy, Following his plough, along the mountain-side. By our own spirits we are deified; We Poets in our youth begin in gladness, But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.

I'm not talking about a "show me other walls of this thing" button, I mean a "stumble" button for wallbase.