the wounds 215
  Of mortified presumption, I adhered
  More firmly to old tenets, and, to prove
  Their temper, strained them more; and thus, in heat
  Of contest, did opinions every day
  Grow into consequence, till round my mind 220
  They clung, as if they were its life, nay more,
  The very being of the immortal soul.

    This was the time, when, all things tending fast
  To depravation, speculative schemes—­
  That promised to abstract the hopes of Man 225
  Out of his feelings, to be fixed thenceforth
  For ever in a purer element—­
  Found ready welcome.  Tempting region that
  For Zeal to enter and refresh herself,
  Where passions had the privilege to work, 230
  And never hear the sound of their own names. 
  But, speaking more in charity, the dream
  Flattered the young, pleased with extremes, nor least
  With that which makes our Reason’s naked self
  The object of its fervour.  What delight! 235
  How glorious! in self-knowledge and self-rule,
  To look through all the frailties of the world,
  And, with a resolute mastery shaking off
  Infirmities of nature, time, and place,
  Build social upon personal Liberty, 240
  Which, to the blind restraints of general laws
  Superior, magisterially adopts
  One guide, the light of circumstances, flashed
  Upon an independent intellect. 
  Thus expectation rose again; thus hope, 245
  From her first ground expelled, grew proud once more. 
  Oft, as my thoughts were turned to human kind,
  I scorned indifference; but, inflamed with thirst
  Of a secure intelligence, and sick
  Of other longing, I pursued what seemed 250
  A more exalted nature; wished that Man
  Should start out of his earthy, worm-like state,
  And spread abroad the wings of Liberty,
  Lord of himself, in undisturbed delight—­
  A noble aspiration! yet I feel 255
  (Sustained by worthier as by wiser thoughts)
  The aspiration, nor shall ever cease
  To feel it;—­but return we to our course.

    Enough, ’tis true—­could such a plea excuse
  Those aberrations—­had the clamorous friends 260
  Of ancient Institutions said and done
  To bring disgrace upon their very names;
  Disgrace, of which, custom and written law,
  And sundry moral sentiments as props
  Or emanations of those institutes, 265
  Too justly bore a part.  A veil had been
  Uplifted; why deceive ourselves? in sooth,
  ’Twas even so; and sorrow for the man
  Who either had not eyes wherewith to see,
  Or, seeing, had forgotten!  A strong