 | |
| |
| When I have fears that I may cease to be |
| Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain, |
| Before high piled books, in charactry, |
| Hold like rich garners the full ripen'd grain; |
| 5 | When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face, |
| Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, |
| And think that I may never live to trace |
| Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance; |
| And when I feel, fair creature of an hour, |
| 10 | That I shall never look upon thee more, |
| Never have relish in the fairy power |
| Of unreflecting love; — then on the shore |
| Of the wide world I stand alone, and think |
| Till love and fame to nothingness do sink. |
