Delightful land of verdure, shower and gleam, To mock the wandering Voice beside some haunted
O bounty without measure! while the grace Of Heaven doth in such wise, from humblest springs, Pour pleasure forth, and solaces that trace
A mazy course along familiar things,
Well may our hearts have faith that blessings come, Streaming from founts above the starry sky, With angels when their own untroubled home They leave, and speed on nightly embassy To visit earthly chambers,-and for whom? Yea, both for souls who God's forbearance try, And those that seek his help, and for his mercy sigh.
RMY of Clouds! ye wingèd Host in troops
A Ascending from behind the motionless brow
Of that tall rock, as from a hidden world, O whither with such eagerness of speed? What seek ye, or what shun ye? of the gale Companions, fear ye to be left behind, Or racing o'er your blue ethereal field Contend ye with each other? of the sea Children, thus post ye over vale and height To sink upon your mother's lap-and rest? Or were ye rightlier hailed, when first mine eyes Beheld in your impetuous march the likeness Of a wide army pressing on to meet Or overtake some unknown enemy?— But your smooth motions suit a peaceful aim; And Fancy, not less aptly pleased, compares Your squadrons to an endless flight of birds Aerial, upon due migration bound
To milder climes; or rather do ye urge In caravan your hasty pilgrimage
pause at last on more aspiring heights
Than these, and utter your devotion there With thunderous voice? Or are ye jubilant, And would ye, tracking your proud lord the Sun, Be present at his setting; or the pomp Of Persian mornings would ye fill, and stand Poising your splendours high above the heads
Of worshippers kneeling to their up-risen God? Whence, whence, ye Clouds! this eagerness of speed? Speak, silent creatures.-They are gone, are fled, 30 Buried together in yon gloomy mass
That loads the middle heaven; and clear and bright And vacant doth the region which they thronged Appear; a calm descent of sky conducting Down to the unapproachable abyss,
Down to that hidden gulf from which they rose To vanish-fleet as days and months and years, Fleet as the generations of mankind,
Power, glory, empire, as the world itself,
The lingering world, when time hath ceased to be. 40 But the winds roar, shaking the rooted trees,
And see! a bright precursor to a train Perchance as numerous, overpeers the rock That sullenly refuses to partake
Of the wild impulse. From a fount of life Invisible, the long procession moves Luminous or gloomy, welcome to the vale Which they are entering, welcome to mine eye That sees them, to my soul that owns in them,
And in the bosom of the firmament
O'er which they move, wherein they are contained, A type of her capacious self and all
Here is my body doomed to tread, this path, A little hoary line and faintly traced, Work, shall we call it, of the shepherd's foot Or of his flock?-joint vestige of them both. I pace it unrepining, for my thoughts Admit no bondage and my words have wings. Where is the Orphean lyre, or Druid harp, To accompany the verse? The mountain blast Shall be our hand of music; he shall sweep The rocks, and quivering trees, and billowy lake, And search the fibres of the caves, and they Shall answer, for our song is of the Clouds,
And the wind loves them; and the gentle gales- Which by their aid re-clothe the naked lawn With annual verdure, and revive the woods, And moisten the parched lips of thirsty flowers— Love them; and every idle breeze of air Bends to the favourite burthen. Moon and stars Keep their most solemn vigils when the Clouds Watch also, shifting peaceably their place
Like bands of ministering Spirits, or when they lie, As if some Protean art the change had wrought, In listless quiet o'er the ethereal deep Scattered, a Cyclades of various shapes And all degrees of beauty. O ye Lightnings! Ye are their perilous offspring; and the Sun- Source inexhaustible of life and joy,
And type of man's far-darting reason, therefore In old time worshipped as the god of verse, A blazing intellectual deity-
Loves his own glory in their looks, and showers Upon that unsubstantial brotherhood
Visions with all but beatific light
Enriched-too transient, were they not renewed From age to age, and did not, while we gaze
In silent rapture, credulous desire
Nourish the hope that memory lacks not power To keep the treasure unimpaired. Vain thought! Yet why repine, created as we are
For joy and rest, albeit to find them only Lodged in the bosom of eternal things?
SUGGESTED BY A PICTURE OF THE BIRD OF PARADISE
HE gentlest Poet, with free thoughts endowed,
And a true master of the glowing strain,
Might scan the narrow province with disdain That to the Painter's skill is here allowed.
This, this the Bird of Paradise! disclaim The daring thought, forget the name;
This the Sun's Bird, whom Glendoveers might own As no unworthy Partner in their flight Through seas of ether, where the ruffling sway Of nether air's rude billows is unknown; Whom Sylphs, if e'er for casual pastime they Through India's spicy regions wing their way, Might bow to as their Lord. What character, O sovereign Nature! I appeal to thee, Of all thy feathered progeny
Is so unearthly, and what shape so fair? So richly decked in variegated down,
Green, sable, shining yellow, shadowy brown, Tints softly with each other blended,
Hues doubtfully begun and ended;
Or intershooting, and to sight
Lost and recovered, as the rays of light
Glance on the conscious plumes touched here and
Full surely, when with such proud gifts of life Began the pencil's strife,
O'erweening Art was caught as in a snare.
A sense of seemingly presumptuous wrong Gave the first impulse to the Poet's song; But, of his scorn repenting soon, he drew A juster judgment from a calmer view; And, with a spirit freed from discontent, Thankfully took an effort that was meant Not with God's bounty, Nature's love, to vie, Or made with hope to please that inward eye Which ever strives in vain itself to satisfy, But to recall the truth by some faint trace Of power ethereal and celestial grace,
That in the living Creature find on earth a place.
(IN A SMALL VALLEY OPPOSITE St. Goar, upon the RHINE) ENIUS of Raphael! if thy wings
Might bear thee to this glen,
With faithful memory left of things
To pencil dear and pen,
Thou wouldst forego the neighbouring Rhine,
And all his majesty
A studious forehead to incline
O'er this poor family.
The Mother-her thou must have seen,
In spirit, ere she came
To dwell these rifted rocks between,
Or found on earth a name;
An image, too, of that sweet Boy, Thy inspirations give-
Of playfulness, and love, and joy, Predestined here to live.
Downcast, or shooting glances far, How beautiful his eyes,
That blend the nature of the star
With that of summer skies!
I speak as if of sense beguiled; Uncounted months are gone, Yet am I with the Jewish Child, That exquisite Saint John.
I see the dark-brown curls, the brow, The smooth transparent skin, Refined, as with intent to show The holiness within;
The grace of parting Infancy By blushes yet untamed;
Age faithful to the mother's knee,
Nor of her arms ashamed.
Two lovely Sisters, still and sweet As flowers, stand side by side; Their soul-subduing looks might cheat The Christian of his pride:
Such beauty hath the Eternal poured Upon them not forlorn,
Though of a lineage once abhorred, Nor yet redeemed from scorn.
Mysterious safeguard, that, in spite Of poverty and wrong,
Doth here preserve a living light, From Hebrew fountains sprung; That gives this ragged group to cast Around the dell a gleam
Of Palestine, of glory past,
And proud Jerusalem!
THE Ear addressed, as occupied by a spiritual functionary, in communion with sounds, individual, or combined in studied harmony.-Sources and effects of those sounds (to the close of 6th Stanza).-The power of music, whence proceeding, exemplified in the idiot.-Origin of music, and its effect in early ages-how produced (to the middle of 10th Stanza).-The mind recalled to sounds acting casually and severally.-Wish uttered (11th Stanza) that these could be united into a scheme or system for moral interests and intellectual contemplation.- (Stanza 12th) the Pythagorean theory of numbers and music, with their supposed power over the motions of the universe-imaginations consonant with such a theory.-Wish expressed (in 11th Stanza) realised, in some degree, by the representation of all sounds under the form of thanksgiving to the Creator.-(Last Stanza) the destruction of earth and the planetary system the survival of audible harmony, and its support in the Divine Nature, as revealed in Holy Writ,
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