No More Learning

A stormy night's serenest morrow,
Whose showers are pity's gentle tears,
Whose clouds are smiles of those that die _2235
Like infants without hopes or fears,
And whose beams are joys that lie
In blended hearts, now holds dominion;
The dawn of mind, which upwards on a pinion
Borne, swift as sunrise, far illumines space, _2240
And clasps this barren world in its own bright