I Saw The Tracks Of Angels In

The Aged Love What Is Practical While Impetuous Youth Longs Only For What Is Dazzling.

What Name To Call Thee By, O Virgin Fair, I Know Not, For Thy Looks Are Not Of Earth And More Than Mortal Seems Thy Countenances

Those Spacious Regions Where Our Fancies Roam, Pain'd By The Past, Expecting Ills To Come, In Some Dread Moment, By The Fates Assign'd, Shall Pass Away, Nor Leave A Rack Behind; And Time's Revolving Wheels Shall Lose At Last The Speed That Spins The Future And The Past: And, Sovereign Of An Undisputed Throne, Awful Eternity Shall Reign Alone.

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.

Go, Grieving Rimes Of Mine, To That Hard Stone Whereunder Lies My Darling, Lies My Dear, And Cry To Her To Speak From Heaven's Sphere.