(Where GOD talks with man, as once 'twas fancied of Eden;) That transcendental supreme interpreting of sense, Rendering intelligence passionate with mystery, linking Sympathy with grandeur, the reserve of dignity with play; Those soul-formalities, the balance held 'twixt the denīal And the betrayal of intention, whose masteries invite, Entice, welcome ever, meet, and with kindliness embrace; 420 Those guarded floodgates of boundless, lovely resources, Whence nothing ill issues, no distraction nor abortion Hindering enjoyment, but in easy security flow forth Ecstasies of fitness, raptures and harmonies of heav'n. Surely before such work of man, so kindly attemper'd, Nature must be asham'd, had shē not this ready answer, 'Fool, and who made thee?'-- I shall not seem a deserter, Where in an idle essay my verse to a fancy abandon'd Praiseth others: rather while art and beauty delight us, While hope, faith and love are warm and lively in our hearts, Sweet our earthly desire and dear our human affection, 431 We may, joyfully despising the pedantries of old age, Hold to the time, nor lose the delight of mortal attainment; Keenly rejoicing in all that wisdom approves, nor allowing Ourselves at the challenge of younger craft to be outsailed; But trimming our old canvas in all change of weather and wind, Freely without fear urge o'erseas our good vessel onward, Piloting into the far, unmapp'd futurity.--Farewell. 2 EPISTLE II TO A SOCIALIST IN LONDON