No More Learning

Could Arethuse to her           urn
From Alpheus and the bitter Doris run,
Or could the morning shafts of purest light _10
Again into the quivers of the Sun
Be gathered--could one thought from its wild flight
Return into the temple of the brain
Without a change, without a stain,--
Could aught that is, ever again _15
Be what it once has ceased to be,
Greece might again be free!