With Nature's ebb and flow, grew feebler Robes in its golden beams,-ah! thou hast still: And when two lessening points of light alone 655 Gleamed through the darkness, the alter fled! A fragile lute, on whose harmonious strings 700 The breath of heaven did wander-a bright stream Once fed with many-voiced waves- a dream 670 Of youth, which night and time have quenched forever Still, dark, and dry, and unremembered Thou canst no longer know or love the shapes Of this phantasmal scene, who have to thee eyes, That image sleep in death, upon that form Yet safe from the worm's outrage, let no tear Be shed-not even in thought. Nor, when those hues Are gone, and those divinest lineaments, 705 Worn by the senseless wind, shall live alone In the frail pauses of this simple strain, Let not high verse, mourning the memory Of that which is no more, or painting's woe Or sculpture, speak in feeble imagery 710 Their own cold powers. Art and eloquence, And all the shows o' the world, are frail and vain To weep a loss that turns their lights to It is a woe too "deep for tears," when all 715 Whose light adorned the world around it, leaves Those who remain behind, not sobs or All vital things that wake to bring News of birds and blossoming,Sudden, thy shadow fell on me; For love and hate, despondency and hope? 60 I shrieked, and clasped my hands in 25 No voice from some sublimer world hath 30 35 ever To sage or poet these responses1 given; Therefore the names of Demon,2 Ghost, and Heaven, Remain the records of their vain en deavor ecstasy! 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 Frail spells, whose uttered charm might 65 Each from his voiceless grave: they have not avail to sever, From all we hear and all we see, Thy light alone, like mist o'er mountains driven, Robes some unsculptured image; the strange sleep Which when the voices of the desert fail Wraps all in its own deep eternity;30 Thy caverns echoing to the Arve's commotion, A loud, lone sound no other sound can tame; Thou art pervaded with that ceaseless motion, Thou art the path of that unresting sound, Dizzy Ravine! and when I gaze on thee 35 I seem as in a trance sublime and strange To muse on my own separate fantasy, My own, my human mind, which passively Now renders and receives fast influencings, Holding an unremitting interchange 40 With the clear universe of things around; One legion of wild thoughts, whose wan dering wings Now float above thy darkness, and now rest 45 Seeking among the shadows that pass byGhosts of all things that are some shade of thee, Some phantom, some faint image; till the breast From which they fled recalls them, thou art there! And then I clasped my hands and looked around, But none was near to mock my streaming eyes, 30 Which poured their warm drops on the sunny ground So, without shame, I spake:-"I will be wise, And just, and free, and mild, if in me lies Such power, for I grow weary to behold The selfish and the strong still tyrannize 35 Without reproach or check." I then controlled My tears, my heart grew calm, and I was meek and bold. |