Often On Earth The Gentlest Heart Is

From Thought To Thought, From Mountain Peak To Mountain. Love Leads Me On; For I Can Never Still My Trouble On The World's Well Beaten Ways.

All Pleasure In The World Is A Passing Dream.

I Looked Back At The Summit Of The Mountain, Which Seemed But A Cubit High In Comparison With The Height Of Human Contemplation, Were In Not Too Often Merged In The Corruptions Of The Earth.

And I Live On, But In Grief And Self-contempt, Left Here Without The Light I Loved So Much, In A Great Tempest And With Shrouds Unkempt.

Perhaps Out There, Somewhere, Someone Is Sighing For Your Absence; And With This Thought, My Soul Begins To Breathe.