With the moon, o’er their revels, to frown:
To-morrow ye’ll find all their spoils in your path,
And ye’ll speak of the wind and the sky;
But oh could ye see them to-night, in their wrath,
I ween ye’d be frenzied of eye!
IX.
There is a world in which we dwell;
And yet a world invisible!
And do not think that naught can be,
Save only what with eyes ye see;