An Experience

WIT, weight, or wealth there was notIn anything that was said,In anything that was done;All was of scope to cause notA triumph, dazzle, or dreadTo even the subtlest one,My friend,To even the subtlest one.

But there was a new afflation—An aura zephyring round,That care infected not:It came as a salutation,And, in my sweet astound,I scarcely witted whatMight pend,I scarcely witted what.

The hills in samewise to meSpoke, as they grayly gazed,—First hills to speak so yet!

The thin-edged breezes blew meWhat I, though cobwebbed, crazed,Was never to forget,My friend,Was never to forget!