II.— THE REVELATION.

An idle poet, here and there,

Looks round him; but, for all the rest,

The world, unfathomably fair,

Is duller than a witling's jest.

Love wakes men, once a lifetime each;

They lift their heavy lids, and look;

And, lo, what one sweet page can teach,

They read with joy, then shut the book.

And some give thanks, and some blaspheme,

And most forget; but, either way,

That and the Child's unheeded dream

Is all the light of all their day.