Faithful Found Among The Faithless.

The Spirits Perverse With Easy Intercourse Pass To And Fro, To Tempt Or Punish Mortals.

It Was The Winter Wild, While The Heaven-born Child, All Meanly Wrapt In The Rude Manger Lies.

A Thousand Fantasies Begin To Throng Into My Memory, Of Calling Shapes, And Beckoning Shadows Dire, And Airy Tongues That Syllable Men's Names On Sands And Shores And Desert Wildernesses

Sense Of Pleasure We May Well Spare Out Of Life Perhaps, And Not Repine, But Live Content, Which Is The Calmest Life; But Pain Is Perfect Misery, The Worst Of Evils, And Excessive, Overturns All Patience.

The Winds With Wonder Whist, Smoothly The Waters Kisst.