Second Sight

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Second Sight

Rich is the fancy which can double back

All seeming forms, and from cold icicles

Build up high glittering palaces where dwells

Summer perfection, moulding all this wrack

To spirit symmetry, and doth not lack

The power to hear amidst the funeral bells

The eternal heart’s wind-melody which swells

In whirlwind flashes all along its track!

So hath the sun made all the winter mine

With gardens springing round me fresh and fair;

On hidden leaves uncounted jewels shine;

I live with forms of beauty everywhere,

Peopling the crumbling waste and icy pool

With sights and sounds of life most beautiful.