Even midst thy shades, thou wilderness! to tell.
I would not have my boy’s young cheek made pale,
Nor haunt his sunny rest with what befell
In that drear prison-house. His eye must grow
More dark with thought, more earnest his fair brow,
More high his heart in youthful strength must swell;
So shall it fitly burn when all is told:
Let childhood’s radiant mist the free child yet enfold.
XV.
It is enough that through such heavy hours