Still do they crowd my soul tumultuously—
The troubling images of that vast world,
Which—living, restless, fearful as it is—
Yet, at the bidding of one master-mind,
E’en as commanded by a demigod,
Seems to fulfil its course. With eagerness,
Yea, with a strange delight, my soul drank in
The strong words of the experienced; but, alas!
The more I listen’d, still the more I sank
In mine own eyes; I seem’d to die away