Transfigured sorrow to a heart’s delight.
And uninvited memories, that stole
With haunting trouble to their slavèd soul
Were turned to wondrous joys and aspects bright.
So intimate a part are we of Nature
That even to call us best part doth us wrong,
Being her mind, the meaning of her feature,
To whom her varied forms wholly belong.
So that what were not ours were worthless quite,
And thus to me it happened on that night