The unconquerable pang of despised love.

The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.

Every gift of noble origin Is breathed upon by Hope's perpetual breath.

The soft blue sky did never melt Into his heart; he never felt The witchery of the soft blue sky!

Then my heart with pleasure fills And dances with the daffodils.

A light to guide, a rod To check the erring, and reprove.

The clouds that gather round the setting sun do take a sober colouring from an eye that hath kept watch o'er man's mortality; another race hath been, and other palms are won. Thanks to the human heart by which we live, thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears, to me the meanest flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.