![]() ![]() Souls that have toil’d, and wrought, and thought with me. There lies the port the vessel puffs her sail: Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere This labour, by slow prudence to make mild To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle,. To rust unburnish’d, not to shine in use!Īs tho’ to breathe were life! Life piled on lifeįrom that eternal silence, something more,Ī bringer of new things and vile it wereįor some three suns to store and hoard myself,īeyond the utmost bound of human thought. Gleams that untravell’d world whose margin fades Myself not least, but honour’d of them all Īnd drunk delight of battle with my peers, Much have I seen and known cities of menĪnd manners, climates, councils, governments, That loved me, and alone, on shore, and when Greatly, have suffer’d greatly, both with those Life to the lees: All times I have enjoy’d That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me. Match’d with an aged wife, I mete and dole By this still hearth, among these barren crags, ![]()
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