"Weak is the will of Man, his judgement blind…"

               "Weak is the will of Man, his judgement blind;
               Remembrance persecutes, and Hope betrays;
               Heavy is woe;-and joy, for human-kind,
               A mournful thing so transient is the blaze!"
               Thus might he paint our lot of mortal days
               Who wants the glorious faculty assigned
               To elevate the more-than-reasoning Mind,
               And colour life's dark cloud with orient rays.
               Imagination is that sacred power,
               Imagination lofty and refined:
               'Tis hers to pluck the amaranthine flower
               Of Faith, and round the sufferer's temples bind
               Wreaths that endure affliction's heaviest shower,
               And do not shrink from sorrow's keenest wind.

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