Pardon, oh, pardon, that my soul should make, br Of all that strong divineness which I know br For thine and thee, an image only so br Formed of the sand, and fit to shift and break. br It is that distant years which did not take br Thy sovranty, recoiling with a blow, br Have forced my swimming brain to undergo br Their doubt and dread, and blindly to forsake br Thy purity of likeness and distort br Thy worthiest love to a worthless counterfeit: br As if a shipwrecked Pagan, safe in port, br His guardian sea-god to commemorate, br Should set a sculptured porpoise, gills a-snort br And vibrant tail, within the temple gate.