Those old credulities, to Nature dear, Shall they no longer bloom upon the stock Of history?

My eyes are dim with childish tears, My heart is idly stirred, For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days I heard.

The intellectual power, through words and things, Went sounding on a dim and perilous way!

For all things are less dreadful than they seem.

Meek Nature's evening comment on the shows That for oblivion take their daily birth From all the fuming vanities of earth.

The vision and the faculty divine; Yet wanting the accomplishment of verse.

The oldest man he seemed that ever wore grey hairs.