Blind Mouths! That Scarce Themselves Know How

Law Can Discover Sin, But Not Remove, Save By Those Shadowy Expiations Weak.

Subdue By Force, Who Reason For Their Law Refuse, Right Reason For Their Law.

Fate Shall Yield To Fickle Chance, And Chaos Judge The Strife.

And Pomp, And Feast, And Revelry, With Mask, And Antique Pageantry, Such Sights As Youthful Poets Dream On Summer Eves By Haunted Stream.

The Olive Grove Of Academe, Plato's Retirement, Where The Attic Bird Trills Her Thick-warbled Notes The Summer Long.