EXPERIENCE, like a pale musician, holds

    A dulcimer of patience in his hand,

    understand,

    Of God; will in rain unfolds

    In sad-perplexed minors: deathly colds

    Fall on us wermand

    Our sanguine  back from the fancyland

    itingales in visionary wolds.

    e murmur  ain tune

    Or measured music in suces as these ?

    But angels, leaning from t,

    Are not so minded th won

    ted cadences,

    And, smiling doars, they whisper--

    SEEt.