What is a mine — a treasury — a dower —

A magic talisman of mighty power?

A poet’s wide possession of the earth.

He has th’ enjoyment of a flower’s birth

Before its budding — ere the first red streaks —

And Winter cannot rob him of their cheeks.

Look — if his dawn be not as other men’s!

Twenty bright flushes — ere another kens

The first of sunlight is abroad — he sees

Its golden ‘lection of the topmost trees,

And opes the splendid fissures of the morn.

When do his fruits delay, when doth his corn

Linger for harvesting? Before the leaf

Is commonly abroad, in his piled sheaf

The flagging poppies lose their ancient flame.

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