He charmed reality into a dream,
And over all the common face of things
He shed the golden glow of morning's blush;
And in the fire of his affection
Dull forms, that throng the life of every day,
Yea to mine own amazement, tow'red aloft.
Win what I may henceforth, the Beautiful
Is gone, and gone without return.”[75]
You will say this was an opening. In reading another part of the book I found lines which I have turned as follows, no better than the others:—
“For nothing other than a noble aim