Of mystic beauty, dreamy gift no Rounded art the lack supplies unskilled the subtle
Lines to trace or softer shades of Nature gifted I
Look Her common forms with unanointed Eyes nor
Mine the seer like power to show the secrets of the
Heart and Mind; to drop the plummet line below
Our common World of joy and woe a more intense
Despair of brighter happy to find yet here at least
An earnest sense of poetic right and weal Is shown
With a Clover as deep and strong as theirs, I lay,
Like them, my best gifts on thy shrine.
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