Solitude and the Lily

I bend above the moving stream,
And see myself in my own dream, —
Heaven passing, while I do not pass.
Something divine pertains to me,
Or I to it; — reality
Escapes me on this liquid glass.

Solitude.

The changeful clouds that float or poise on high,
Emblem earth's night and day of history;
Renew'd for ever, evermore to die.
Thy life-dream is thy fleeting loveliness;
But mine is concentrated consciousness,
A life apart from pleasure or distress.
The grandeur of the Whole
Absorbs my soul,
While my caves sigh o'er human littleness.

The Lily:

Ah, Solitude,
Of marble Silence fit abode!
I do prefer my fading face,
My loss of loveliness and grace,
With cloud-dreams ever in my view;
Also the hope that other eyes
May share my rapture in the skies,
And, if illusion, feel it true.