An Experience

    Wit, weight, or wealth there was not
       In anything that was said,
       In anything that was done;
    All was of scope to cause not
           A triumph, dazzle, or dread
           To even the subtlest one,
                             My friend,
           To even the subtlest one.

    But there was a new afflation—
       An aura zephyring round,
       That care infected not:
    It came as a salutation,
       And, in my sweet astound,
       I scarcely witted what
                             Might pend,
       I scarcely witted what.

    The hills in samewise to me
       Spoke, as they grayly gazed,
       First hills to speak so yet!
    The thin-edged breezes blew me
       What I, though cobwebbed, crazed,
       Was never to forget,
                             My friend,
       Was never to forget!