A glow of deep, ideal loveliness.
My vanished childhood rises to my view
In pale and melancholy beauty. Life
Since then hath been but desolate. Alas!
What heart-chords have been broken, what bright dreams
Been shadowed by the hue of grief. No more
The Egeria of my spirit-worship haunts
The grove and wood. No charm can woo her back,
She will not hear my call, she answers not
The witching spell of fancy. It is not