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That what the Soul perceives, if glory lost,
May be through pains and persevering hope
Recovered; or, if hitherto unknown,
Lies within reach, and one day shall be gained."
"I blame them not," he calmly answered—"no;
The outward ritual and established forms
With which Communities of Men invest
These inward feelings, and the aspiring views
To which the lips give public utterance
Are both a natural process; and by me
Shall pass uncensured; though the issue prove,
Bringing from age to age its own reproach,
Incongruous, impotent, and blank.—But oh!
If to be weak is to be wretched—miserable,
As the lost Angel by a human voice
Hath mournfully pronounced, then, in my mind,
Far better not to move at all than move
By impulse sent from such illusive Power,
That finds and cannot fasten down; that grasps
And is rejoiced, and loses while it grasps;
That tempts, emboldens—doth a while sustain,
And then betrays; accuses and inflicts
