Where there is nothing$$$ there is God.
I bring you with reverent hands<br>The books of my numberless dreams.
Come away$$$ O human child!<br>To the waters and the wild<br>With a faery$$$ hand in hand$$$<br>For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Imitation is always insult — not flattery.
Oft had I heard of Lucy Gray$$$ <br>And when I crossed the Wild$$$ <br>I chanced to see at break of day <br>The solitary Child. <br>No Mate$$$ no comrade Lucy knew; <br>She dwelt on a wide Moor$$$ <br>-The sweetest Thing that ever grew <br>Beside a human door! <br>You yet may spy the Fawn at play$$$ <br>The Hare upon the Green; <br>But the sweet face of Lucy Gray <br>Will never more be seen.
But the sweet face of Lucy Gray<br>Will never more be seen.<br>The storm came on before its time:<br>She wandered up and down;<br>And many a hill did Lucy climb:<br>But never reached the town.
A slumber did my spirit seal;<br>I had no human fears:<br>She seemed a thing that could not feel<br>The touch of earthly years. <br>No motion has she now$$$ no force;<br>She neither hears nor sees;<br>Rolled round in earth's diurnal course<br>With rocks$$$ and stones$$$ and trees.
Here must thou be$$$ O man$$$<br>Strength to thyself no helper hast thou here <br>Here keepest thou thy individual state:<br>No other can divide with thee this work$$$<br>No secondary hand can intervene<br>To fashion this ability. 'Tis thine$$$<br>The prime and vital principle is thine<br>In the recesses of thy nature$$$ far<br>From any reach of outward fellowship$$$<br>Else 'tis not thine at all.
If thou indeed derive thy light from Heaven$$$<br>Then$$$ to the measure of that heaven-born light$$$<br>Shine$$$ Poet!
She died$$$ and left to me<br>This heath$$$ this calm and quiet scene$$$<br>The memory of what has been$$$<br>And never more will be.