AS one who having wandered all night long

In a perplexed forest, comes at length

In the first hours, about the matin song,

And when the sun uprises in his strength,

To the fringed margin of the wood, and sees,

Gazing afar before him, many a mile

Of falling country, many fields and trees,

And cities and bright streams and far-off Ocean’s smile:

I, O Melampus, halting, stand at gaze:

I, liberated, look abroad on life,

Love, and distress, and dusty travelling ways,

The steersman’s helm, the surgeon’s helpful knife,

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