God grant a blessing¹ on this tower and cottage

    And on my heirs， if all remain unspoiled，

    No table or chair or stool not simple enough

    For shepherd lads in Galilee； and grant

    That I myself for portions of the year

    May handle nothing and set eyes on nothing

    But what the great and passionate² have used

    Throughout so many varying centuries

    We take it for the norm； yet should I dream

    Sinbad the sailor‘s brought a painted chest，

    Or image， from beyond the Loadstone Mountain，

    That dream is a norm； and should some limb of the devil

    Destroy the view by cutting down an ash

    That shades the road， or setting up a cottage

    Planned in a government office， shorten his life，

    Manacle his soul upon the Red Sea bottom.

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