Our Torments Also May In Length Of

Come Knit Hands, And Beat The Ground In A Light Fantastic Round

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.

On The Tawny Sands And Shelves Trip The Pert Fairies And The Dapper Elves.

Heaven Open'd Wide Her Ever During Gates, Harmonious Sound, On Golden Hinges Moving.

Dark With Excessive Bright.