When We First Met And Loved, I

We Overstate The Ills Of Life, And Take Imagination... Down Our Earth To Rake.

The Music Soars Within The Little Lark, And The Lark Soars.

I Work With Patience, Which Is Almost Power.

Yet Half The Beast Is The Great God Pan, To Laugh, As He Sits By The River, Making A Poet Out Of A Man. The True Gods Sigh For The Cost And The Pain-- For The Reed That Grows Never More Again As A Reed With The Reeds Of The River.

There Shakespeare, On Whose Forehead Climb The Crowns O' The World; Oh, Eyes Sublime With Tears And Laughter For All Time!