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They shrank and broke like bandages of straw
Beneath a wakened giant's strength.

She knew her glorious change,
And felt, in apprehension uncontrolled,

New raptures opening round;
Each day-dream of her mortal life,
Each frenzied vision of the slumbers

That closed each well-spent day,

Seemed now to meet reality.

The Fairy and the Soul proceeded;
The silver clouds disparted;
And as the car of magic they ascended,
Again the speechless music swelled,
Again the coursers of the air,
Unfurled their azure pennons, and the Queen
Shaking the beamy reins
Bade them pursue their way.

The magic car moved on.
The night was fair, and countless stars
Studded heaven's dark blue vault,—

Just o'er the eastern wave
Peeped the first faint smile of morn:—
The magic car moved on—
From the celestial hoofs
The atmosphere in flaming sparkles flew,

And where the burning wheels
Eddied above the mountains loftiest peak,
Was traced a line of lightning.
Now it flew far above a rock,

The utmost verge of earth,
The rival of the Andes, whose dark brow

Lowered o'er the silver sea.

Far, far below the chariot's path,.

Calm as a slumbering babe,

Tremendous Ocean lay.
The mirror of its stillness shewed

The pale and waning stars,

The chariot's fiery track,

And the grey light of morn

Tinging those fleecy clouds

That canopied the dawn.

Seemed it, that the chariots way Lay through the midst of an immense concave, Radiant with million constellations, tinged

With shades of infinite colour,

And semicircled with a belt
Flashing incessant meteors.

The magic car moved on.

As they approached their goal
The coursers seemed to gather speed;
The sea no longer was distinguished: earth
Appeared a vast and shadowy sphere;

The sun's unclouded orb

Rolled through the black concave;

Its rays of rapid light
Parted around the chariot's swifter course,
And fell like ocean's feathery spray

Dashed from the boiling surge

Before a vessel's prow.

The magic car moved on.

Earth's distant orb appeared
The smallest light that twinkles in the heaven;

Whilst round the chariot's way
Innumerable systems rolled,
And countless spheres diffused

An ever-varying glory.
It was a sight of wonder; some
Were horned like the crescent moon;
Some shed a mild and silver beam
Like Hesperus o'er the western sea;
Some dash'd athwart with trains of flame,
Like worlds to death and ruin driven;
Some shone like suns, and as the chariot passed,
Eclipsed all other light.

Spirit of Nature! here!
In this interminable wilderness
Of worlds, at whose immensity
Even soaring fancy staggers,
Here is thy fitting temple.

Yet not the lightest leaf
That quivers to the passing breeze
Is less instinct with thee:

Yet not the meanest worm That lurks in graves and fattens on the dead

Less shares thy eternal breath.

Spirit of Nature! thou! Imperishable as this scene,

Here is thy fitting temple.

n.

If solitude hath ever led thy steps

To the wild ocean's echoing shore, «

And thou hast lingered there,

Until the sun's broad orb
Seemed resting on the burnished wave,

Thou must have marked the lines
Of purple gold, that motionless

Hung o'er the sinking sphere; Thou must have marked the billowy clouds Edged with intolerable radiancy

Towering like rocks of jet

Crowned with a diamond wreath.

And yet there is a moment,

When the sun's highest point Peeps like a star o'er ocean's western edge, . When those far clouds of feathery gold,

Shaded with deepest purple, gleam

Like islands on a dark blue sea; Then has thy fancy soared above the earth, And furled its wearied wing Within the Fairy's fane.

Yet not the golden islands

Gleaming in yon flood of light,

Nor the feathery curtains
Stretching o'er the sun's bright couch,
Nor the burnished ocean waves

Paving that gorgeous dome,
So fair, so wonderful a sight
As Mat's ethereal palace could afford.
Yet likest evening's vault that fairy Hall!
As Heaven, low resting on the wave, it spread

Its floors of flashing light, Its vast and azure dome, Its fertile golden islands Floating on a silver sea; Whilst suns their mingling beamings darted Through clouds of circumambient darkness, And pearly battlements around Look'd o'er the immense of Heaven. The magic car no longer moved. The Fairy and the Spirit Entered the Hall of Spells; Those golden clouds That rolled in glittering billows Beneath the azure canopy With the ethereal footsteps, trembled not;

The light and crimson mists,
Floating to strains of thrilling melody
Through that unearthly dwelling,
Yielded to every movement of the will.
Upon their passive swell the Spirit leaned,
And, for the varied bliss that pressed around,
Used not the glorious privilege
Of virtue and of wisdom.

Spirit! the Fairy said,
And pointed to the gorgeous dome,

This is a wondrous sight
And mocks all human grandeur;
But, were it virtue's only meed to dwell
In a celestial palace, all resigned
To pleasurable impulses, immured
Within the prison of itself, the will
Of changeless nature would be unfulfilled.
Learn to make others happy. Spirit come!
This is thine high reward:—the past shall rise
Thou shalt behold the present; I will teach
The secrets of the future.

The Fairy and the Spirit
Approached the overhanging battlement.—
Below lay stretched the universe!
There, far as the remotest line
That bounds imagination's flight,
Countless and unending orbs

In mazy motion intermingled,
Yet still fulfilled immutably
Eternal Nature's law.
Above, below, around
The circling systems formed
A wilderness of harmony:
Each with undeviating aim,
In eloquent silence, through the depths of space
Pursued its wondrous way.
There was a little light
That twinkled in the misty distance:
None but a spirit's eye
Might ken that rolling orb;
None but a spirit's eye,
And in no other place
But that celestial dwelling, might behold
Each action of this earth's inhabitants.

But matter, space, and time
In those aerial mansions cease to act;
And all-prevailing wisdom, when it reaps
The harvest of its excellence, o'erbounds
Those obstacles, of which an earthly soul
Fears to attempt the conquest.

The Fairy pointed to the earth.

The Spirit's intellectual eye

Its kindred beings recognized.
The thronging thousands to a passing view,
Seemed like an anthill's citizens.

How wonderful! that even
The passions, prejudices, interests,
That swayed the meanest being, the weak touch

That moves the finest nerve,

And in one human brain
Causes the faintest thought, becomes a link
In the great chain of nature.

Behold, the Fairy cried,
Palmyra's ruined palaces !—

Behold ! where grandeur frowned;

Behold ! where pleasure smiled; What now remains—the memory

Of senselessness and shame—

What is immortal there?

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