Part 4 — APOLOGIA
Reading edition
Critics, you have been so kind, I would not have you think me blind To all the wisdom that you preach; Yet before I strictlier run In straiter lines of chiselled speech, Give me one more hour, just one Hour to hunt the fairy gleam That flutters through this childish dream. It mocks me as it flies, I know: All too soon the gleam will go; Yet I love it and shall love My dream that brooks no narrower bars Than bind the darkening heavens above, My Jack o’Lanthorn of the stars: Then, I’ll follow it no more, I’ll light the lamp: I’ll close the door.