Hyperion O Goddess! hear these tuneful thoughts, Which to life bend me down from the steep mount of song, And raise me up from every vile thing here, Revere the ancient altar which appeared to me, When dawn, with veil thrown o’er, led forth the sun
To found each honor’d being, and all to be counted there,— As dew drops bursting from the rolling mist of morn! Yet this alone, O earthly verse!
My heart shall wait around the secret threads, Till quickly ‘twixt her ardent glances throw These living treasures of yonder vale, Which wait afar in loneliness,—for they are as night, And still, nor bright, nor clear, nor upon me light!

• John Keats