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No energy undevoted to my lyre. It was my other self that had a power; Mine, but o'er which I had not a control. At times it was not with me, and I felt A wonder how it ever had been mine: And then a word, a look of loveliness, A tone of music, call'd it into life; And song came gushing, like the natural tears, To check whose current does not rest with us.

Had I lived ever in the savage woods, Or in some distant island, which the sea With wind and wave guards in deep loneliness; Had my eye never on the beauty dwelt Of human face, and my ear never drank The music of a human voice; I feel