Laying aside my glasses clear, Kind squires to halt, myoptic eyes, Blundering among blurred stars, I peer Into the dim, dull-twinkling skies. Some day, 'mid those faint lights adrift, Wandering past all fancy far, My spirit shall its journey shift From half-seen star to half-seen star. And this daft fear fantastic starts: "In those blurred worlds what shall I do, Lacking the firm material parts To hang my wonted glasses to?" |