CHARACTER.
SHUN passion, fold the hands of thrift,
Sit still, and Truth is near;
Suddenly it will uplift
Your eyelids to the sphere:
Wait a little, you shall see
The portraiture of things to be.
FOR what need I of book or priest
Or Sibyl from the mummied East
When every star is Bethlehem Star,—
I count as many as there are
Cinquefoils or violets in the grass,
So many saints and saviours,
So many high behaviours.