Was even the gentlest of all gentle things.
Ah! then, if mine had been the painter’s hand
To express what then I saw; and add the gleam,
The light that never was, on sea or land, 15
The consecration, and the poet’s dream,—
I would have planted thee, thou hoary Pile,
Amid a world how different from this!
Beside a sea that could not cease to smile;
On tranquil land, beneath a sky of bliss. 20
Thou should’st have seemed a treasure-house divine