And, to give it stately seeming,
Has the music of his last strong song passed into Keats’s face?
Is Wordsworth there? and Spenser?
Beyond the grave’s black portals,
Can the grand eye of Milton see the glory he sang to mortals?
What would one have?
In heaven, perhaps, new chances, one more chance—
Four great walls in the New Jerusalem,
Meted on each side by the angel’s reed,