Of Demons? fiery-hot to burst
    All barriers in her onward race
    For power.  Let her know her place; 15
  She is the second, not the first.

  A higher hand must make her mild,
    If all be not in vain; and guide
    Her footsteps, moving side by side
  With wisdom, like the younger child:  20

  For she is earthly of the mind,
    But Wisdom heavenly of the soul. 
    O friend, who earnest to thy goal
  So early, leaving me behind

  I would the great world grew like thee, 25
    Who grewest not alone in power
    And knowledge, but by year and hour
  In reverence and in charity.

  CXV

  Now fades the last long streak of snow,
    Now burgeons every maze of quick
    About the flowering squares, and thick
  By ashen roots the violets blow,

  Now rings the woodland loud and long, 5
    The distance takes a lovelier hue,
    And drown’d in yonder living blue
  The lark becomes a sightless song.

  Now dance the lights on lawn and lea,
    The flocks are whiter down the vale, 10
    And milkier every milky sail
  On winding stream or distant sea;

  Where now the seamew pipes, or dives
    In yonder greening gleam, and fly
    The happy birds, that change their sky 15
  To build and brood, that live their lives

  From land to land; and in my breast
    Spring wakens too; and my regret
    Becomes an April violet,
  And buds and blossoms like the rest. 20

  CXVIII

  Contemplate all this work of Time,
    The giant labouring in his youth;
    Nor dream of human love and truth,
  As dying Nature’s earth and lime;

  But trust that those we call the dead 5
    Are breathers of an ampler day
    For ever nobler ends.  They say,
  The solid earth whereon we tread

  In tracts of fluent heat began,
    And grew to seeming-random forms, 10
    The seeming prey of cyclic storms,
  Till at the last arose the man;

  Who throve and branch’d from clime to clime,
    The herald of a higher race,
    And of himself in higher place, 15
  If so he type this work of time

  Within himself, from more to more;
    Or, crown’d with attributes of woe
    Like glories, move his course, and show
  That life is not as idle ore, 20

  But iron dug from central gloom,
    And heated hot with burning fears,
    And dipt in baths of hissing tears,
  And batter’d with the shocks of doom

  To shape and use.  Arise and fly 25
    The reeling Faun, the sensual feast;
    Move upward, working out the beast
  And let the ape and tiger die.