Then feed on thoughts, that voluntarie move

Harmonious numbers; as the wakeful Bird

Sings darkling, and in shadiest Covert hid

Tunes her nocturnal Note. Thus with the Year [ 40 ]

Seasons return, but not to me returns

Day, or the sweet approach of Evn or Morn,

Or sight of vernal bloom, or Summers Rose,

Or flocks, or heards, or human face divine;

But cloud in stead, and ever-during dark [ 45 ]

Surrounds me, from the chearful wayes of men

Cut off, and for the Book of knowledg fair

Presented with a Universal blanc

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