A seeming inbred poesy. The bard,
The true and native bard, does more than this;
There is within him a far deeper fount
Of innate feeling; and his radiant mind
Shines not with light reflected, but gives forth,
When warmed by passions burning in his heart,
Its own clear coruscations; like those stars
Which flash across the sky, so swift and bright,
We wonder whence they came. And so with her
Was thought creative, and gave mystic birth