No is mine, No trembler in the 's -troubled sphere: I see 'sshine, Andshines equal, arming me from . Owithin my breast, Almighty, ever-present Deity! — that in me has rest, As I — undying Life — havein Thee! Vain are the thousand creeds That move men's hearts: unutterably vain; Worthless as withered weeds, Or idlest froth amid the boundless main...

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