And makes a gladness out of agony.
Pale phantom! I would fear and worship thee,
That hast the soul at will, and givest it play,
Amid the wildest fancies far away;
That thronest reason, on some wizard throne
Of fairy land, within the milky zone,—
Some spectre star, that glittereth beyond
The glorious galaxies of diamond.
Beautiful lunacy! that shapest flight
For love to blessed bowers of delight,