II. Forms.
The care of discipline is love.
Love, from whatever earthly cave he springs,
(That spell of something heavenly dwelling round
Home, friend, or grave endear'd,) when he hath found
Meet entrance, he will shake his odorous wings,
And throw a charm o'er thousand meaner things,
O'er whatsoe'er at first he entrance found
Into the soul; in ties associate bound
He lives, and o'er them his own radiance flings.
Then why should not a holier Peace and Mirth
Love those mute forms, which cherished first their birth,
And brac'd them for the withering blasts of earth?
The gladsome soul that her devotion plies,
Bound in the wreath of ancient Liturgies,
Why should she not her chain beyond all freedom prize?
