A few strong instincts and a few plain rules.
Wisdom and spirit of the Universe!
Of friends, however humble, scorn not one.
Like an army defeated the snow hath retreated.
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.
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.