When I Have Fears That I May Cease to Be

When I have fears that I may cease to beBefore my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,Before high pilèd books, in charactry,Hold like rich garners the full-ripen'd grain;When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,And think that I may never live to traceTheir shadows, with the magic hand of chance;And when I feel, fair creature of an hour!That I shall never look upon thee more,Never have relish in the faery powerOf unreflecting love;—then on the shoreOf the wide world I stand alone, and thinkTill Love and Fame to nothingness do sink.