Her name

If I shut my ears, it comes after me
when it has dwelt all day long upon the ear
it takes possession all night of the fancy
it has witchcraft in every letter of it
but it is the witchcraft of passion and meaning
who is there that will not despise the false
empty pomp of the poets
when he observes in little unpretending
mild triumph of beauty
the whole force of invention and genius
creating new powers of emotion and transplanting ideas of pleasure
into that unweeded garden of the heart
from the dry and sharp summit of reason
yes, I confess,
there is no name in the world
of whom I think with still greater respect.