Lurks in the legend told my infant years
Than lies upon that truth, we live to learn,
For fable is Love’s world, his home, his birth-place:
Delightedly dwells he ’mong fays and talismans,
And spirits; and delightedly believes
Divinities, being himself divine.
The intelligible forms of ancient poets,
The fair humanities of old religion,
The Power, the Beauty, and the Majesty,
That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain,