The glory and the freshness of a dream. The things which I have seen I the fears of early childhood can see no more. That there hath pass’d away a glory from the earth.
I hear, I hear, with joy I hear! Whither is fled the visionary gleam? Where is it now, the glory and the dream? Heaven lies about us in our infancy! And fade into the light of common day. And that imperial palace whence he came. A six years’ darling of a pigmy size!
With light upon him from his father’s eyes! Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife? Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life! And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore. Then sing, ye birds, sing, sing a joyous song!