So shall a solemn cadence, if it enter The mouldy vaults of the dull idiot's brain, And then aghast, as at the world By concords winding with a sway Or, awed, he weeps, struggling to quell dismay. Lodged above the starry pole, Pure modulations flowing from the heart Of Divine Love, where Wisdom, Beauty, Truth, With Order dwell, in endless youth? Oblivion may not cover VIII. All treasures hoarded by the miser, Time. And voice and shell drew forth a tear Yet strenuous was the infant Age : Rejoiced that clamorous spell and magic verse IX. The GIFT to King Amphion That walled a city with its melody Was for belief no dream : - thy skill, Arion ! Could humanize the creatures of the sea, Where men were monsters. A last grace he craves, So shall he touch at length a friendly strand, X. The pipe of Pan, to shepherds Couched in the shadow of Mænalian pines, This way and that, with wild-flowers crowned. To life, to life give back thine ear: Ye who are longing to be rid Of fable, though to truth subservient, hear The convict's summons in the steeple's knell; For terror, joy, or pity, XI. Vast is the compass and the swell of notes: From the babe's first cry to voice of regal city, Rolling a solemn, sea-like bass, that floats Far as the woodlands, with the trill to blend Of that shy songstress, whose love-tale Might tempt an angel to descend, While hovering o'er the moonlight vale. Ye wandering Utterances, has Earth no scheme, Powers that survive but in the faintest dream Of the Unsubstantial, pondered well! By one pervading spirit XII. Of tones and numbers all things are controlled, As sages taught, where faith was found to merit Initiation in that mystery old. The heavens, whose aspect makes our minds as still As they themselves appear to be, Innumerable voices fill With everlasting harmony; The towering headlands, crowned with mist, That Ocean is a mighty harmonist; Thy pinions, universal Air, Ever waving to and fro, Are delegates of harmony, and bear Strains that support the Seasons in their round; Stern Winter loves a dirge-like sound. XIII. Break forth into thanksgiving, Ye banded instruments of wind and chords! Unite, to magnify the Ever-living, Your inarticulate notes with the voice of words! Nor hushed be service from the lowing mead, Nor mute the forest hum of noon; Thou too be heard, lone eagle! freed All worlds, all natures, mood and measure keep For praise and ceaseless gratulation, poured XIV. A Voice to Light gave Being; To Time, and Man his earth-born chronicler ; To archangelic lips applied, The grave shall open, quench the stars. O Silence! are Man's noisy years No more than moments of thy life? Is Harmony, blest queen of smiles and tears, Tempered into rapturous strife, Thy destined bond-slave? No! though earth be dust And vanish, though the heavens dissolve, her stay Is in the WORD, that shall not pass away. |