You Eat, In Dreams, The

Nor Public Flame, Nor Private, Dares To Shine; Nor Human Spark Is Left, Nor Glimpse Divine! Lo! Thy Dread Empire, Chaos! Is Restored; Light Dies Before Thy Uncreating Word: Thy Hand, Great Anarch! Lets The Curtain Fall; And Universal Darkness Buries All.

Men Must Be Taught As If You Taught Them Not, And Things Unknown Proposed As Things Forgot.

The Heart Resolves This Matter In A Trice, "men Only Feel The Smart, But Not The Vice.

Whoever Thinks A Faultless Piece To See, Thinks What Ne'er Was, Nor Is, Nor E'er Shall Be, In Every Work Regard The Writer's End, Since None Can Compass More Than They Intend; And If The Means Be Just, The Conduct True, Applause, In Spite Of Trivial Faults, Is Due.

Interspersed In Lawn And Opening Glades, Thin Trees Arise That Shun Each Others' Shades.