Phantom lights, that rise and fall;
Drift no more with drifting doctrines—
Grown indifferent to them all!
Shall I long regret the visions
Of a rest so inly wooed?
Shall I long go on deploring
Creeds, that but opinions proved?
Quenched be every weak emotion!
Bring my future weal or woe,
Weal nor woe shall blight or bless me—