Xv

And thou, thenceforth the breathless child of change, Thine own Alastor, on an endless quest Of unimagined loveliness, didst range, Urged ever by the soul’s divine unrest. Of that high quest and that unrest divine Thy first immortal music thou didst make, Inwrought with fairy Alp, and Reuss, and Rhine, And phantom seas that break In soundless foam along the shores of Time, Prisoned in thine imperishable rhyme.