// Copyright 2016 The Closure Rules Authors. All rights reserved.
//
// Licensed under the Apache License, Version 2.0 (the "License");
// you may not use this file except in compliance with the License.
// You may obtain a copy of the License at
//
//    http://www.apache.org/licenses/LICENSE-2.0
//
// Unless required by applicable law or agreed to in writing, software
// distributed under the License is distributed on an "AS IS" BASIS,
// WITHOUT WARRANTIES OR CONDITIONS OF ANY KIND, either express or implied.
// See the License for the specific language governing permissions and
// limitations under the License.

goog.provide('hyperion');


/**
 * CANTO I
 *
 * Fanatics have their dreams, wherewith they weave
 * A paradise for a sect; the savage too
 * From forth the loftiest fashion of his sleep
 * Guesses at Heaven; pity these have not
 * Trac'd upon vellum or wild Indian leaf
 * The shadows of melodious utterance.
 * But bare of laurel they live, dream, and die;
 * For Poesy alone can tell her dreams,
 * With the fine spell of words alone can save
 * Imagination from the sable charm
 * And dumb enchantment. Who alive can say,
 * 'Thou art no Poet may'st not tell thy dreams?'
 * Since every man whose soul is not a clod
 * Hath visions, and would speak, if he had loved
 * And been well nurtured in his mother tongue.
 * Whether the dream now purpos'd to rehearse
 * Be poet's or fanatic's will be known
 * When this warm scribe my hand is in the grave.
 */
hyperion = function() {
  external_library.doodle();
  console.log('The Fall of Hyperion - A Dream by John Keats');
};
