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SO I went wrong, Grievously wrong, but folly crushed itself, And vanity o’ertoppling fell, and time And healthy discipline and some neglect, Labour and solitary hours revived Somewhat, at least, of that original frame. Oh, well do I remember then the days When on some grassy slope (what time the sun Was sinking, and the solemn eve came down With its blue vapour upon field and wood And elm-embosomed spire) once more again I fed on sweet emotion, and my heart With love o’erflowed, or hushed itself in fear Unearthly, yea celestial. Once again My heart was hot within me, and, me seemed, I too had in my body breath to wind The magic horn of song; I too possessed Up-welling in my being’s depths a fount Of the true poet-nectar whence to fill The golden urns of verse. |