“Not for such hopes and fears
Annulling youth's brief years,
Do I remonstrate: folly wide the mark!
Rather I prize the doubt
Low kinds exist without,
Finished and finite clods, untroubled by a spark…
For thence, -- a paradox
Which comforts while it mocks,
Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail:
What I aspired to be, and was not, comforts me.”
