A dark unfathom’d tide
Of interminable pride —
A mystery, and a dream,
Should my early life seem;
I say that dream was fraught
With a wild, and waking thought
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 inherit
That vision of my spirit;
Those thoughts I would controul,
As a spell upon his soul:
For that bright hope at last
And that light time have past,
And my worldly rest hath gone
With a sigh as it pass’d on:
I care not tho’ it perish
With a thought I then did cherish.
USE OF COOKIES
We use first-party and third-party cookies for statistical purposes and to improve your browsing experience. If you continue browsing, you accept the use of cookies.
You can find more information and learn how to change the settings in our
Cookies policy