As restful shall it seem as now the past;
And then with all things bright, behind, before,
Where could a place for gloom be? Even here,
Could gloom be found if only men had faith?
VIII.
A year pass’d over me. Can I forget
That wondrous April day that set me free?
At first, as though I own’d no soul at all,
I seem’d myself a part of that wide air,
And all things else had souls. The very earth