Canto LIX
If, in thy second state sublime,Thy ransom’d reason change repliesWith all the circle of the wise,The perfect flower of human time;
And if thou cast thine eyes below,How dimly character’d and slight,How dwarf’d a growth of cold and night,How blanch’d with darkness must I grow!
Yet turn thee to the doubtful shore,Where thy first form was made a man:I loved thee, Spirit, and love, nor canThe soul of Shakspeare love thee more.