"High instincts before which our mortal Nature // Did tremble like a guilty thing surprised: // But for those first affections, // Those shadowy recollections, // Which, be they what they may, // Are yet the fountain-light of all our day, // Are yet a master-light of all our seeing; // Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make // Our noisy years seem moments in the being // Of the eternal Silence: truths that wake"
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