Had We But World Enough,

Among The Blind The One-eyed Blinkard Reigns

He Nothing Common Did, Or Mean, / Upon That Memorable Scene, / But With His Keener Eye / The Axe's Edge Did Try.

But At My Back I Always Hear Time's Winged Chariot Hurrying Near.

My Love Is Of A Birth As Rare As 'tis, For Object, Strange And High; It Was Begotten By Despair Upon Impossibility.

And Yonder All Before Us Lie Deserts Of Vast Eternity.