The thoughts once chamber’d there,
Have gather’d up their treasures and are gone;—
Will the dust tell thee where
That which hath burst the prison-house is flown?
Rise, nursling of the day!
If thou wouldst trace its way—
Earth has no voice to make the secret known.
Who seeks the vanish’d bird
Near the deserted nest and broken shell?
Far thence, by us unheard,