What of his birth the crowd believed,
And sought, in mist and meteor fire,
To meet and know his Phantom Sire!
In vain, to soothe his wayward fate,
The cloister oped her pitying gate;
In vain, the learning of the age
Unclasp’d the sable-lettered[175] page;
Even in its treasures he could find
Food for the fever of his mind.
Eager he read whatever tells