By ignorance and parching poverty,

Till he relent, and can no more endure

And stagnate and corrupt; till changed to poison,

And this place our forefathers made for man!

And friendless solitude, groaning and tears,

By 九_九_藏_書the lamps dismal twilight! So he lies

To be a jarring and a dissonant thing,

Thy sunny hues, fair forms, and breathing sweets,

His angry spirit healed and harmonized

Healest th九*九*藏*書y wandering and distempered child:

Each pore and natural outlet shrivelld up

And savage faces, at the clanking hour,

And this is their best cure! uncomforted

By sights of ever more deformity!

Most innocent, per九*九*藏*書haps--and what if guilty?

This is the process of our love and wisdom,

By the benignant touch of love and beauty.

Amid this general dance and minstrelsy;

Thou pourest on him thy soft in?uences,

To each poor brother whhttps://read.99csw.como offends against us--

Circled with evil, till his very soul

Is this the only cure? Merciful God?

But, bursting into tears, wins back his way,

Unmoulds its essence, hopelessly deformed

Then we call in our pamperd mountebank九*九*藏*書s--

They break out on him, like a loathsome plague-spot;

With other ministrations thou, O nature!

Thy melodies of woods, and winds, and waters,

His energies roll back upon his heart,

Seen through the steams and vapour of his dungeon,