Of what I knew not, but I look’d around;
For I was borne on visionary wings, 320
And felt no dread of sublunary things;
But rising, walk’d.—A distant window threw
A weak, soft light, that help’d me in my view;
Something with anxious heart I hoped to see,
And pray’d, ‘O! God of all things, let it be!
For all are thine, were made by thee, and thou
Canst both the meeting and the means allow;
Thou canst make clear my sight, or thou canst make