Thee had we followed through the twilight land Where thought grows form, and matter is refined Back into thought of the eternal mind, Till, seeing them one, Lo, in the morn we stand!-- Then started fresh and followed, hand in hand, With sense divinely growing, till, combined, We heard the music of the planets wind In harmony with billows on the strand!-- Till, one with earth and all God's utterance, We hardly knew whether the sun outspake, Or a glad sunshine from our spirits brake-- Whether we think, or winds and blossoms dance! Alas, O poet leader, for such good Thou wast God's tragedy, writ in tears and blood!