I count time by months and years
Since last I felt t,
And t breathings summer-
Met mine upon my lips. Noh appears
As strange to me as dreams of distant spheres
Or ts of . Natures lute
Sounds on, be,
A strange o the prisoners ears,
Dilated by tance, till the brain
Gro feels too
h a visionary pain,
Past the precluded senses, sweep and Rhine
Streams, forests, glades, and many a golden train
Of sunlit ransfigured to Divine.