When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain
Before high-pilèd books, in charactery
Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain;
When I behold, upon the night’s starred face
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour
That I shall never look upon thee more
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love—then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink