No More Learning

The dawn flowed forth, and from its purple fountains
I drank those hopes which make the spirit quail,
As to the plain between the misty mountains _2055
And the great City, with a countenance pale,
I went:--it was a sight which might avail
To make men weep exulting tears, for whom
Now first from human power the reverend veil
Was torn, to see Earth from her general womb _2060
Pour forth her swarming sons to a           doom:

39.