1.

In youth have I known one with whom the Earth

In secret communing held — as he with it,

In day light, and in beauty from his birth:

Whose fervid, flick'ring torch of life was lit [page 31:]

From the sun and stars, whence he had drawn forth

A passionate light-such for his spirit was fit —

And yet that spirit knew — not [[knew not —]] in the hour

Of its own fervor — what had o'er it power.

2.

Perhaps it may be that my mind is wrought

To a ferver [[fever]] by the moon beam that hangs o'er,

But I will half believe that wild light fraught

With more of sov'reignty than ancient lore

Hath ever told — or is it of a thought

The unembodied essence, and no more

That with a quick'ning spell doth o'er us pass

As dew of the night-time, o'er the summer grass.

3.

Doth o'er us pass, when, as th’ expanding eye

To the lov'd object — so the tear to the lid

Will start, which lately slept in apathy?

And yet it need not be — (that object) hid

From us in life — but common — which doth lie

Each hour before us — but then only bid

With a strange sound, as of a harp-string broken

T' awake us — 'Tis a symbol and a token. [[,]]

4.

Of what in other worlds shall be — and giv'n

In beauty by our God, to those alone [page 32:]

Who otherwise would fall from life and Heav'n

Drawn by their heart's passion, and that tone,

That high tone of the spirit which hath striv'n

Tho' not with Faith — with godliness — whose throne

With desp'rate energy 't hath beaten down;

Wearing its own deep feeling as a crown.