Both give bliss;。，Those lawless. High they sit, and if descend,
The silken heights, of ghostly bloom。，Avengeing clutched, distrusting rent;
。，On Earth's original fisticuffs they called
。，Her soul's protesting sobs she drowned to swear
Whose nimbus was her crown; and be again。，The giant cubs, who gambolled and who snarled,
To say what a deadly poison stuffed。，VIII
Was Life, and author, hero, we.。，Disaster face, derision brook:
Out of the primal strata springs,。，
Mother love for her own, who raised her when she lay sick。，He tore the fall'n, the Eternal was his Foe.
A wreck; her past, her future, both in shade.。，Defacement none, nor ever squandered force.
Is lost, and leaves the thrilled desire。，And drops the vole off alder-banks,
。，The blindworm stretched him, drunk of sun.
The strange new Winter stream of ruling sense,。，Arachne's dream of prey to size
To walk within her Laws and have her light.。，The nation flowering conscience o'er the beast;
The stream within us urged to flood;。，Nought true but what insufferably feels.
In meditation passing lone,。，Breath to us, Powers of air, for laughter loud!
Legs like plaited lyre-chords, feet。，To make her heavens remorseful, she restrained
，Expugnant; swift up the heights, with the Victor's instinctive scorn。，There, with the cup it presents at her lips, she stands,