vega-ofthe-lyre: Man, her last work, who seem’d so fair,Such splendid purpose in his eyes,Who roll’d the psalm to wintry skies,Who built him fanes of fruitless prayer, Who trusted God was love indeedAnd love Creation’s final law —Tho’ Nature, red in tooth and clawWith ravine, shriek’d against his creed — Who loved, who suffer’d countless ills,Who …