Page:The Venetian Bracelet.pdf/300

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Whose deepest hopes and fears Are omen-like: the poet's dower Is even as the prophet's power.

Thy image floats before my eyes, Thy book is on my knee; I'm musing on what now thou art, And on what thou wilt be. Dangerous as a magic spell, Whose good or evil none may tell, The gift that is with thee; For Genius, like all heavenly light, Can blast as well as bless the sight.

Thou art now in thy dreaming time: The green leaves on the bough,