midnight
My father died ; and I , the peasant-born , Was my own lord . Then did I seek to rise Out of the prison of my mean estate ; And , with such jewels as the exploring mind Brings from the caves of knowledge , buy my ransom From those twin gaolers of the daring heart Low birth and iron fortune . Thy bright image Glass 'd in my soul , took all the hues of glory , And lured me on to those inspiring toils By which man masters men ! For thee I grew A midnight student o'er the dreams of sages . For thee I sought to borrow from each grace , And every muse , such attributes as lend Ideal charms to love . I thought of thee , And passion taught me poesy -- of thee , And on the painter 's canvas grew the life Of beauty ! Art became the shadow Of the dear starlight of thy haunting eyes Men call 'd me vain -- some mad -- I heeded not ; But still toil 'd on -- hoped on -- for it was sweet , If not to win , to feel more worthy thee ?