Clogs the clear hues of thought, and in a varnish
Drowns to one tone. Would I had written that!
And this too, where the bliss the poet prays for
His pregnant line is witness that he hath,
A vision and a share of that high wisdom,
Wherewith thy justice governs all things well:
That honoured bý thee we return thee honour ...
That honoured by thee we return thee honour . . .
That’s admirable, noble: I’ll write myself
Something like that. Ay, now I feel it within me: