XIV: Eton College

How often have I fix'd a stranger's gaze
On yon famed turrets, clad in light as fair
As this sweet evening lends, and felt the air
Of learning that from calm of ancient days
Breathes round them ever! Now to me they wear
Hues drawn from dearer thought; the radiant haze
That mantles them grows thick with fondest care,
And its slant sunbeams flicker like the praise
Youth wins from wisdom;--for in yon retreats
One little student's heart expectant beats
With blood of mine;--O God! vouchsafe him power,
When I am dust, to stand on this sweet place,
And, through the vista of long years, embrace
With cloudless soul this first Etonian hour!