Heart-affluence in discursive talk From household fountains never dry; The critic clearness of an eye, That saw thro’ all the Muses’ walk;
Seraphic intellect and force To seize and throw the doubts of man; Impassion’d logic, which outran The hearer in its fiery course;
High nature amorous of the good, But touch’d with no ascetic gloom; And passion pure in snowy bloom Thro’ all the years of April blood;
A love of freedom rarely felt, Of freedom in her regal seat Of England, not the schoolboy heat, The blind hysterics of the Celt;
And manhood fused with female grace In such a sort, the child would twine, A trustful hand, unasked, in thine, And find his comfort in thy face;
All these have been, and thee mine eyes Have look’d on: if they look’d in vain My shame is greater who remain, Nor let thy wisdom make me wise.