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William Wordsworth - From The Dark Chambers Of Dejection Freed
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FROM the dark chambers of dejection freed,
Spurning the unprofitable yoke of care,
Rise, GILLIES, rise; the gales of youth shall bear
Thy genius forward like a winged steed.
Though bold Bellerophon (so Jove decreed
In wrath) fell headlong from the fields of air,
Yet a rich guerdon waits on minds that dare,
If aught be in them of immortal seed,
And reason govern that audacious flight
Which heavenward they direct.--Then droop not thou,         
Erroneously renewing a sad vow
In the low dell `mid Roslin`s faded grove:
A cheerful life is what the Muses love,
A soaring spirit is their prime delight.
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