Godfrey

And so perverteth all. This stream to me Sings, and in sunny ripples lingeringly The water saith 'Ah me! where have I lept? Into what garden of life? what banks are these, What secret lawns, what ancient towers and trees? Where the young sons of heav'n, with shouts of play Or low delighted speech, welcome the day, As if the poetry of the earth had slept To wake in ecstasy. O stay me! alas! Stay me, ye happy isles, ere that I pass Without a memory on my sullen course By the black city to the tossing seas!'