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"NON FIT"
The poet's thoughts are full of might,
Elate with glory and delight;
New tints are in his heavens spread;
On odors keen his sense is fed,"
And strains accordant angels sing;
Through all his sleep their echoes ring.

The poet has a lonely soul;
He hears the seas in thunder roll,
Perceives the rapture of the rose,
And every tone of Nature knows;
But cannot speak the tongue of men,
Or give their greetings back again.

His eyes alight with love intense,
His face all calm with innocence;
The green leaves kiss his waving hair,
The wild-birds sing him carols rare,
Intent to celebrate and bless;
His Eden fills the wilderness.