This Little, Silent, Gloomy Monument,
Contains all that was sweet and innocent ; . . .
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The lords of life, the lords of life,—
I saw them pass,
In their own guise, . . .
Like Crusoe with the bootless gold we stand . . .
To make a final conquest of all me,
Love did compose so sweet an enemy,
In whom both beauties to my death agree, . . .
Rhyme, the rack of finest wits,
That expresseth but by fits
True conceit, . . .
We deemed the secret lost, the spirit gone,
Which spake in Greek simplicity of thought,
And in the forms of gods and heroes wrought . . .
Harmonious Powers with Nature work
On sky, earth, river, lake, and sea:
Sunshine and storm, whirlwind and breeze . . .
Follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow,
Though thou be black as night
And she made all of light, . . .
The wind blows east, the wind blows west,
And the frost falls and the rain:
A weary heart went thankful to rest, . . .
After the fierce midsummer all ablaze
Has burned itself to ashes, and expires
In the intensity of its own fires, . . .