"Most sweet it is with unuplifted eyes…"

               Most sweet it is with unuplifted eyes
               To pace the ground, if path be there or none,
               While a fair region round the traveller lies
               Which he forbears again to look upon;
               Pleased rather with some soft ideal scene,
               The work of Fancy, or some happy tone
               Of meditation, slipping in between
               The beauty coming and the beauty gone.
               If Thought and Love desert us, from that day
               Let us break off all commerce with the Muse:
               With Thought and Love companions of our way,
               Whate'er the senses take or may refuse,
               The Mind's internal heaven shall shed her dews
               Of inspiration on the humblest lay.

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