Page:Poems By Chauncy Hare Townshend.djvu/104

 84- ODE 01 THE DIYERSIT� Too-lovely offspring of the mind, That bright ideal excellence, Which on the inward eye hath shined, But shuns, alas, the outward sense, And, o'er the wilderness of earth. Flies the lorn soul, that gave it birth, Before whose .glances once display'd, It throws all objects into shade, As gazing on the zun will blot With darkness every earthly spot. But, ah, there is a deeper sadness, And thou,-to some, wild Muse, art madness; Beings of finest mould, o'er-wrought Iu fancy, o'er-informed with thought. For them, the ,veil aside is thrown, That hides, .in mercy to .mankind, From other eyes, the world unknown, And voices, heard by them alone,. Speak in the midnight wind. Hung between life and death, they-seem Wrapt in a strange, bewilder'd, feverish dream, From which, with starts of painful energy, They only half-awake to worse reality. Alas for them ! none own them upon earth, None with their joy, or sorrow, hold com,munion, ......... Google

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