In the Spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish'd dove; In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love

Fancy light from Fancy caught.

O earth, what changes hast thou seen!

The shell must break before the bird can fly.

And so the Word had breath, and wrought/ With human hands the creed of creeds/ In loveliness of perfect deeds,/ More strong than all poetic thought.

Ours not to reason why, ours but to do and die.