EXPERIENCE, like a pale musician, holds
A dulcimer of patience in his hand,
understand,
Of God; will in rain unfolds
In sad-perplexed minors: deathly colds
Fall on us wermand
Our sanguine back from the fancyland
itingales in visionary wolds.
e murmur ain tune
Or measured music in suces as these ?
But angels, leaning from t,
Are not so minded th won
ted cadences,
And, smiling doars, they whisper--
SEEt.