The smutch of strife, at the gaunt Night’s caress
Unruffled into lofty peace. A will
Ineffable, previsionary, swelled
My thought to something of a twilit mood.
Earth faded awhile; the frame of sensible things
Obliviously smote my sensitive touch;
The populous warm walls, the grate that held
Ashes and smoulderings,
The frore behoof, and all of fashion such,
Transmuted were unto the larger scope