Whither is fled the visionary gleam?Where is it now, the glory and the dream?
But trailing clouds of glory do we come,From God, who is our home:Heaven lies about us in our infancy!
Where is it now, the glory and the dream?
Science appears but what in truth she is, Not as our glory and our absolute boast, But as a succedaneum, and a prop To our infirmity.
Great is the glory, for the strife is hard!
Be mild, and cleave to gentle things, thy glory and thy happiness be there.
Science appears but what in truth she is,/ Not as our glory and our absolute boast,/ But as a succedaneum, and a prop/ To our infirmity.