A youth to whom was given So much of earth, so much of heaven.
By all means sometimes be alone; salute thyself; see what thy soul doth wear; dare to look in thy chest; and tumble up and down what thou findest there.
Spires whose "silent finger points to heaven."
Recognizes ever and anon The breeze of Nature stirring in his soul.
The Poet binds together by passion and knowledge the vast empire of human society.
And when the stream Which overflowed the soul was passed away, A consciousness remained that it had left Deposited upon the silent shore Of memory images and precious thoughts That shall not die, and cannot be destroyed.