I clamber just as I will.
in mournful veil conceal'd, the world seem'd dead;The clouds soon closed around me, as a tomb,And I was left alone in twilight gloom.
Him whom thou ne'er leavest, Genius,Thou wilt raise above the mud-trackWith thy fiery pinions.He will wander,As, with flowery feet,Over Deucalion's dark flood,Python-slaying, light, glorious,Pythius Apollo.
'Tis there, 'tis there,That I with thee, protector, would repair!
With gentle words, enthralling me to thee.
In cerements snow-white and trailing.
As in dream thou saw'st it ne'er.
"Oh, pardon me," I cried, "I meant it well:
Grey thoult be to-morrow,
The value of thy gifts I know aright!Those treasures in my breast for others dwell,
Others are collected;On them, therefore, as on us,
And now I've see her,