Egoism.

Not as mine their thoughts who pass: Each has his life's looking-glass Limning therein the light and shade His own entity has made. I have my life's vision still Coloured for me, good or ill, And my point of view must be But my own immortally. Could I guess at theirs, or know What shapes in their vision go. Lift the veil by day and night That's laid on another's light, — They might with a fancy free Get, too, at the gist of me, And with a plebeian shout Turn the Gods I worship out, To be in a concourse lewd Jeered at by the multitude, While I with a reeling brain Talked with Demons in the fane!