What Care I, So They Stand The Same,-- Things Of The Heavenly Mind,-- How Long The Power To Give Them Name Tarries Yet Behind? Thus Far To-Day Your Favors Reach, O Fair, Appeasing Presences! Ye Taught My Lips A Single Speech, And A Thousand Silences. Space Grants Beyond His Fated Road No Inch To The God Of Day; And Copious Language Still Bestowed One Word, No More, To Say.