A dark unfathomed
Of interminable pride -A mystery, and a dream,
Should my early life seem;
I say that dream was
With a wild and waking
Of beings that have been,
Which my spirit hath not seen,
Had I let them pass me by,
With a dreaming eye!
Let none of earth
That vision of my spirit;
Those thoughts I would control,
As a spell upon his soul:
For that bright hope at
And that light time have past,
And my worldly rest hath
With a sigh as it passed on:
I care not though it
With a thought I then did cherish