’Neath which she scarcely venturing goes demurely,
With mystery clad, in the awe of depth and height.
O happy for still unconscious, for ah! how surely,
How soon and surely will disenchantment come,
When first to herself she boasts to walk securely,
And drives the master spirit away from his home;
Seeing the marvellous things that make the morning
Are marvels of every-day, familiar, and some
Have lost with use, like earthly robes, their adorning,
As earthly joys the charm of a first delight, 831