An idle poet, here and there, br Looks around him; but, for all the rest, br The world, unfathomably fair, br Is duller than a witling's jest. br Love wakes men, once a lifetime each; br They lift their heavy lids, and look; br And, lo, what one sweet page can teach, br They read with joy, then shut the book. br And some give thanks, and some blaspheme br And most forget; but, either way, br That and the Child's unheeded dream br Is all the light of all their day.