For what she is; not what she does, or what can make.[150]
And mighty voices from afar came to him;
Converse of trumpets held by cloudy forms,
And speech of choral storms.
Spirits of night and noontide bent to woo him—
He stood the while, lonely and desolate
As Adam when he ruled a world, yet found no mate.
His loftiest Thoughts were but like palms uplifted;
Aspiring, yet in supplicating guise—
His sweetest songs were sighs.