Classic Poem

How incomplete our judgments of our friends!
None is himself when seen. The judge still gives
Some shadow of his own, and often lends
The impression he receives.

Each has his own true element, wherein
He is himself, and finds his dearest gain;
Wherein no eye may see him, and, if seen,
Were surely judged insane.

For only tame restraint is deem'd good sense.
Your own idea — be it good or bad —
Rides you rough-shod without the rein, and thence
The verdict — you are mad.

I nowhere feel so much myself, as when
Upon some breezy mountain-side — alone.
If you would judge me, you must know me then ,
Or hold me yet unknown.

And so with you, I will not say that this,
Or that, is your true character, nor call
Your truer moods to witness, lest I miss
The truest mood of all.