Who, doomed to go in company with Pain And Fear and Bloodshed,-miserable train!- Turns his necessity to glorious gain.

To me the meanest flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.

By happy chance we saw A twofold image: on a grassy bank A snow-white ram, and in the crystal flood Another and the same!

Monastic brotherhood, upon rock Aerial.

As high as we have mounted in delight, In our dejection do we sink as low.

Type of the wise who soar but never roam, True to the kindred points of heaven and home.

I listened, motionless and still; And, as I mounted up the hill, The music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more.