Before me rose a pinnacle of rock, Lifted above the wood that hemmed it in,
And now already glowing. There the beams Came from the far horizon, and they wrapped it In light and glory. Round its vapoury cone A crown of far-diverging rays shot out,
And gave to it the semblance of an altar Lit for the worship of the undying flame, That centred in the circle of the sun, Now coming from the ocean's fathomless caves, Anon would stand in solitary pomp
Above the loftiest peaks, and cover them With splendour as a garment. Thitherward I bent my eager steps; and through the grove Now dark as deepest night, and thickets hung With a rich harvest of unnumbered gems, Waiting the clearer dawn to catch the hues Shed from the starry fringes of its veil
On cloud and mist and dew, and backward thrown With undiminished beauty, on I went Mounting with hasty foot, and thence emerging I scaled that rocky steep, and there awaited Silent-the full appearing of the sun.
Below there lay a far extended sea
Rolling in feathery waves. The wind blew o'er it, And tossed it round the high ascending racks, And swept it through the half hidden forest tops, Till, like an ocean waking into storm, It heaved and weltered. Gloriously the light Crested its billows, and those craggy islands
Shone on it like to palaces of spar Built on a sea of pearl. Far overhead The sky without a vapour or a stain, Intensely blue, even deepened into purple, Where nearer the horizon it received
A tincture from the mist that there dissolved Into the viewless air, the sky bent round The awful dome of a most mighty temple Built by omnipotent hands for nothing less Than infinite worship. There I stood in silence- I had no words to tell the mingled thoughts Of wonder and of joy, that then came o'er me, Even with a whirlwind's rush. So beautiful, So bright, so glorious! Such a majesty In yon pure vault! So many dazzling tints In yonder waste of waves,-so like the ocean With its unnumbered islands there incircled By foaming surges, that the mounting eagle, Lifting his fearless pinion through the clouds To bathe in purest sunbeams, seemed an ospray Hovering above his prey, and yon tall pines, Their tops half mantled in a snowy veil, A frigate with full convass, bearing on To conquest and to glory. But even these, Had round them something of the lofty air
In which they moved;-not like to things of earth, But heightened, and made glorious, as became
Such pomp and splendour.
Who can tell the brightness,
That every moment caught a newer glow;
That circle, with its centre like the heart Of elemental fire, and spreading out
In floods of liquid gold on the blue sky
And on the opaline waves, crowned with a rainbow Bright as the arch that bent above the throne Seen in a vision by the holy man
In Patmos! Who can tell how it ascended, And flowed more widely o'er that lifted ocean Till instantly the unobstructed sun
Rolled up his sphere of fire, floating away- Away in a pure ether, far from earth,
And all its clouds, and pouring forth unbounded His arrowy brightness! From that burning centre At once there ran along the level line Of that imagined sea, a stream of gold— Liquid and flowing gold, that seemed to tremble Even with a furnace heat, on to the point, Whereon I stood. At once that sea of vapour Parted away, and melting into air
Rose round me, and I stood involved in light, As if a flame had kindled up, and wrapped me In its innocuous blaze. Away it rolled,
Wave after wave. Then climbed the highest rocks, Poured over them in surges, and then rushed Down glens and valleys, like a wintry torrent Dashed instant to the plain. It seemed a moment, And they were gone, as if the touch of fire At once dissolved them. Then I found myself Midway in air;-ridge after ridge below, Descended with their opulence of woods
Even to the dim seen level, where a lake Flashed in the sun, and from it wound a line, Now silvery bright even to the farthest verge Of the encircling hills. A waste of rocks Was round me-but below how beautiful, How rich the plain-a wilderness of groves And ripening harvests; while the sky of June- The soft blue sky of June, and the cool air, That makes it then a luxury to live,
Only to breathe it, and the busy echo
Of cascades, and the voice of mountain brooks, Stole with such gentle meanings to my heart, That where I stood seemed Heaven.
Oh that dreams were not dreams, for mine have been The shadows of my hopes. Thence have I grown In love with ideal forms. In youth I saw Most beauteous beings in mine hours of sleepFair maidens with their bright and sunny locks Falling o'er necks whose hue was of the snow, O'er bosoms whose soft throbbings not the veil Of gossamer could hide from the tranced eye. I saw, when that my cheek had lost its down, And I wrote MAN, a world of glittering words Writ by the hand of health upon that leaf
Of human life. I saw bright swords, brave plumes, And staves of office-robes of honour-all
That speak of high employment, and awards Of national emprises. Other thoughts
That were by day, hopes, and in slumber, dreams, Came to me, of my line continued in Illustrious heirs. The boy upon my knee Became a Socrates, and he who played With the dark ringlets on his mother's brow, The saviour of a realm. The little maid Who, lost in mimic tenderness, caressed A pasteboard emblem of our helpless state, I wedded to a warrior, sworn and pledged To die as had his fathers, at the call Of liberty.
Time flew, and I am now
An aged man with hoary hair, and step All trembling; yet I entertain a crowd Of dreams, but they are of the world whereto Age, and hopes crushed are hurrying me. In slumber an offended God, begirt With Cherubim around his hidden throne,- And angels of his attributes, the guards Of his dominions. They who represent Truth, Peace, and Justice ask the darker doom Upon my head, for I had wildly erred; But Mercy, darling child of the Most High, Pleads for me, and prevails. I hear a voice Ring through the spheres of heaven-a voice of love Pronouncing pardon, and I join the choir That worships, and shall worship him eternally.
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