When into air had partially dissolved That vision, given to spirits of the night And three chance human wanderers, in calm thought Reflected, it appeared to me the type Of a majestic intellect, its acts And its possessions, what it has and craves, What in itself it is, and would become. There I beheld the emblem of a mind That feeds upon infinity, that broods Over the dark abyss, intent to hear Its voices issuing forth to silent light In one continuous stream ; a mind sustained By recognitions of transcendent power, In sense conducting to ideal form, In soul of more than mortal privilege. One function, above all, of such a mind Had Nature shadowed there, by putting forth, 'Mid circumstances awful and sublime, That mutual domination which she loves To exert upon the face of outward things, So moulded, joined, abstracted, so endowed With interchangeable supremacy, That men, least sensitive, see, hear, perceive, And cannot choose but feel. The power, which all Acknowledge when thus moved, which Nature thus To bodily sense exhibits, is the express Resemblance of that glorious faculty Thạt higher minds bear with them as their own. This is the very spirit in which they deal With the whole compass of the universe : They from their native selves can send abroad Kindred mutations ; for themselves create A like existence; and, whene'er it dawns Created for them, catch it, or are caught By its inevitable mastery, Like angels stopped upon the wing by sound Of harmony from Heaven's remotest spheres. Them the enduring and the transient both Serve to exalt; they build up greatest things From least suggestions; ever on the watch, [From the Excursion. 1795-1813.] [TWIN PEAKS OF THE VALLEY.] In genial mood, While at our pastoral banquet thus we sate I could not, ever and anon, forbear To glance an upward look on two huge Peaks, That from some other vale peered into this. 'Those lusty twins,' exclaimed our host, 'if here It were your lot to dwell, would soon become Your prized companions.—Many are the notes Which, in his tuneful course, the wind draws forth From rocks, woods, caverns, heaths, and dashing shores ; And well those lofty brethren bear their part In the wild concert-chiefly when the storm Rides high ; then all the upper air they fill With roaring sound, that ceases not to flow, Like smoke, along the level of the blast, In mighty current; theirs, too, is the song Of stream and headlong flood that seldom fails; And, in the grim and breathless hour of noon, Methinks that I have heard them echo back The thunder's greeting. Nor have nature's laws Left them ungifted with a power to yield I.Iusic of finer tone ; a harmony, So do I call it, though it be the hand Of silence, though there be no voice ;—the clouds, The mist, the shadows, light of golden suns, [Mist OPENING IN THE Hills.] So was he lifted gently from the ground, And with their freight homeward the shepherds moved Through the dull mist, I following-when a step, · A single step, that freed me from the skirts Of the blind vapour, opened to my view Glory beyond all glory ever seen By waking sense or by the dreaming soul ! The appearance, instanteneously disclosed, Was of a mighty city-boldly say A wilderness. of building, sinking far And self-withdrawn into a boundless depth Far sinking into splendour - without end ! Fabric it seemed of diamond and of gold, With alabaster domes, and silver spires, And blazing terrace upon terrace, high Uplifted; here, serene pavilions bright, In avenues disposed ; there, towers begirt With battlements that on their restless fronts Bore stars-illumination of all gems! By earthly nature had the effect been wrought Upon the dark materials of the storm Now pacified : on them, and on the coves And mountain-steeps and summits, whereunto The vapours had receded, taking there [AMONG THE MOUNTAINS.) (Greek Divinities.) Once more to distant ages of the world Let us revert, and place before our thoughts The face which rural solitude might wear To the unenlightened swains of pagan Greece. -- In that fair clime, the lonely herdsman, stretched On the soft grass through half a summer's day, With music lulled his indolent repose : And, in some fit of weariness, if he When his own breath was silent, chanced to hear A distant strain, far sweeter than the sounds [THE MOON AMONG TREES.] |