To hear the page of ancient lore rehearsed,

And catch the jewel-thoughts that fall from him

Who sits amid the learned a self-taught man.

In the dun forest, far away from noise

Of traveled road, beneath the giant trees,

Whose branches form a lofty canopy

O’er a great circle cleared by willing hands,

Where the gray ash obstructs the serpent’s path,

The happy Christians pitch their tents of prayer.