By the glory of the sky: Be it love, light, harmony, Odour, or the soul of all Which from heaven like dew doth fall, Or the mind which feeds this verse Peopling the lone universe.
Noon descends, and after noon Autumn's evening meets me soon, Leading the infantine moon, And that one star, which to her Almost seems to minister Half the crimson light she brings From the sunset's radiant springs : And the soft dreams of the morn, (Which like winged winds had borne To that silent isle, which lies 'Mid remembered agonies, The frail bark of this lone being,) Pass, to other sufferers fleeing, And its ancient pilot, Pain, Sits beside the helm again.
Other flowering isles must be In the sea of life and agony: Other spirits float and flee O'er that gulph: even now, perhaps, On some rock the wild wave wraps, With folded wings they waiting sit For my bark, to pilot it To some calm and blooming cove, Where for me, and those I love, May a windless bower be built, Far from passion, pain, and guilt, In a dell 'mid lawny hills, Which the wild sea-murmur fills, And soft sunshine, and the sound
Of old forests echoing round, And the light and smeli divine
350 Of all flowers that breathe and shine: We may live so happy there, That the spirits of the air, Envying us, may even entice To our healing paradise The polluting multitude; But their rage would be subdued By that clime divine and calm, And the winds whose wings rain balm On the uplifted soul, and leaves - 360 Under which the bright sea heaves; While each breathless interval In their whisperings musical The inspired soul supplies With its own deep melodies, And the love which heals all strife Circling, like the breath of life, All things in that sweet abode With its own mild brotherhood : They, not it, would change; and soon 370 Every sprite beneath the moon Would repent its envy vain, And the earth grow young again.
The awful shadow of some unseen Power
Floats though unseen amongst us,—visiting
This various world with as inconstant wing As summer winds that creep from flower to
flower,—. Like moonbeams that behind some piny moun
tain shower, It visits with inconstant glance
Each human heart and countenance; Like hues and harnionies of evening,
Like clouds in starlight widely spread,- Like memory of music fled,
Like aught that for its grace may be Dear, and yet dearer for its mystery.
2. Spirit of BEAUTY, that dost consecrate With thine own hues all thou dost shine
upon Of human thought or form,—where art thou
gone? Why dost thou pass away and leave our state, This dim vast vale of tears, vacant and deso
late ? Ask why the sunlight not for ever
Weaves rainbows o'er yon mountain river, Why aught should fail and fade that once is
shown,
Why fear and dream and death and birth Cast on the daylight of this earth
Such gloom,—why man has such a scope For love and hate, despondency and hope ?
No voice from some sublimer world hath ever
To sage or poet these responses given- Therefore the names of Dæmon, Ghost, and
Heaven, Remain the records of their vain endeavour, Frail spells--whose uttered charm might not
avail to sever, From all we hear and all we see,
Doubt, chance, and mutability.. Thy light alone-like mist o'er mountains
driven, Or music by the night wind sent, Through strings of some still instrument,
Or moonlight on a midnight stream, Gives grace and truth to life's unquiet dream.
Love, Hope, and Self-esteem, like clouds depart
And come, for some uncertain moments lent,
Man were immortal, and omnipotent, Didst thou, unknown and awful as thou art, Keep with thy glorious train firm state within
his heart. Thou messenger of sympathies,
That wax and wane in lovers' eyes- Thou—that to human thought art nourishment,
Like darkness to a dying flame! Depart not as thy shadow came, .
Depart not-lest the grave should be, · Like life and fear, a dark reality.
While yet a boy I sought for ghosts, and sped Through many a listening chamber, cave and
ruin, And starlight wood, with fearful steps pur
suing Hopes of high talk with the departed dead. I called on poisonous names with which our
youth is fed, I was not heard—I saw them not-
When musing deeply on the lot Of life, at the sweet time when winds are
wooing All vital things that wake to bring News of birds and blossoming,
Sudden, thy shadow fell on me; I shrieked, and clasped my hands in ecstasy!
6. I vowed that I would dedicate my powers To thee and thine—have I not kept the
vow? With beating heart and streaming eyes, even
now I call the phantoms of a thousand hours Each from his voiceless grave: they have in
visioned bowers Of studious zeal or love's delight
Outwatched with me the envious nightThey know that never joy illumed my brow
Unlinked with hope that thou wouldst free This world from its dark slavery,
That thou-O awful LOVELINESS, Wouldst give whate'er these words cannot
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