Chapter XXXVIII

A body grew o’er my ghostly mind,
And I felt young winglets sprout behind,
A butterfly pair of gauzy things;
And I was a cherub with little wings.
But cherubs there are of weal and woe,
Angels above and imps below:
Oh, was it for good I was fashion’d so!
Or was it for direr stings!
For now I had eyes; and now I could see
And now I was dress’d in a shape to be
A new-born soul in Eternity,
But ignorant all of my destiny,
As the veriest bird that sings.