Not as the eye hath seen, shall we behold
Romance and beauty, when we’ve passed
away;
That robed the dull facts of the intimate
day
In life’s wild raiment of unusual
gold:
Not as the ear hath heard, shall we be
told,
Hereafter, myth and legend once that lay
Warm at the heart of Nature, clothing
clay
In attribute of no material mold.
These were imperfect of necessity,
That wrought thro’ imperfection
for far ends
Of perfectness-As calm philosophy,
Teaching a child, from his high heav’n
descends
To Earth’s familiar things; informingly
Vesting his thoughts with that it comprehends.