If for a moment, in his blind despair,
The mortal’s troubled glance hath read thee wrong!
Once more he knows thee! His expanding soul
Flows forth to worship thee for evermore,
And his full heart dissolves in tenderness.
...
Is it false light which draws me on to thee?
Is it delirium?—Is it thought inspired,
And grasping first high truth divinely clear?
Yes! ’tis even so—the feeling which alone