Reprinted among 'Juvenilia' in 1871 and onward without alteration, except that it is printed as two stanzas.
The winds, as at their hour of birth, Leaning upon the ridged sea, Breathed low around the rolling earth With mellow preludes, "We are Free"; The streams through many a lilied row, Down-carolling to the crispèd sea, Low-tinkled with a bell-like flow Atween the blossoms, "We are free".
[Greek: Oi Rheontes]
All thoughts, all creeds, all dreams are true, All visions wild and strange; Man is the measure of all truth Unto himself. All truth is change: All men do walk in sleep, and all Have faith in that they dream: For all things are as they seem to all, And all things flow like a stream.
There is no rest, no calm, no pause, Nor good nor ill, nor light nor shade, Nor essence nor eternal laws: For nothing is, but all is made. But if I dream that all these are, They are to me for that I dream; For all things are as they seem to all, And all things flow like a stream.
Argal--This very opinion is only true relatively to the flowing philosophers. (Tennyson's note.)
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