O for the mighty wakening that aroused
The old-time Prophets to their missions high;
And to blind Homer's inward sunlike eye
Show'd the heart's universe where he caroused ...
Impelled by memory in a wayward mood,
Reluctant, yearning, with a faithless mind,
I sought once more a long neglected spot,
A wooded upland bordered by the sea,
Whose tides were swirling up the reedy sands,
Or floating noiseless in the yellow marsh.
My way was wild. The winds, awaking, smote
My face, but as I passed a ruined wall
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