From the Original Draft of the Poem to William Shelley
The world is now our dwelling-place; Where'er the earth one fading trace Of what was great and free does keep, That is our home!... Mild...
This is a poetry & verse.
The world is now our dwelling-place; Where'er the earth one fading trace Of what was great and free does keep, That is our home!... Mild thoughts of man's ungentle race Shall our contented exile reap; For who that in some happy place His own free thoughts can freely chase By woods and waves can clothe his face In cynic smiles?…
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