Wherever genius whispers, 'Here shall be
An immortality for men and time
To worship,' there the ages grow sublime
And break in haloes. Therefore unto me
(Who make such pilgrimages in my dreams)
Lake Leman is a mighty wish, and Rome
A vast desire, to which all others come,
Like bubbles unto each in summer streams.
For glory is of theirs through whose wide light
Walk those great spirits who have made this earth
Too narrow for the effluence of that birth
Which made them all but gods. Yet in their might
Are they not gods, for whom we set apart
A Grecian worship in the templed heart?