Page images
PDF
EPUB

Eifts.

[graphic]

THE

GLORY OF NATURE.

F only once the chariot of the morn
Had scatter'd from its wheels the twi-
light dun,

But once the unimaginable Sun

Flash'd godlike thro' perennial clouds forlorn,

And shown us Beauty for a moment born;

If only once blind eyes had seen the Spring,
Waking amid the triumphs of mid-noon;

But once had seen the lovely Summer boon
Pass by in state like a full-robed King,

The waters dance, the woodlands laugh and sing;

If only once deaf ears had heard the joy

Of the wild birds, or morning breezes blowing,
Or silver fountains from their caverns flowing,

Or the deep-voiced rivers rolling by;

Then Night eternal fallen from the sky;

If only once weird Time had rent asunder

The curtain of the Clouds, and shown us Night
Climbing into the awful Infinite-

Those stairs whose steps are worlds, above and under
Glory on glory, wonder upon wonder!

The Lightnings lit the Earthquake on his way;
The sovran Thunder spoken to the World;
The realm-wide banners of the Wind unfurl'd;
Earth-prison'd Fires broke loose into the day;
Or the great Seas awoke-then slept for aye!

Ah! sure the heart of Man, too strongly tried
By Godlike Presences so vast and fair,
Withering with dread, or sick with love's despair,
Had wept for ever, or to Heaven cried,
Or, struck with lightnings of delight, had died.

But He, though heir of Immortality,

With mortal dust too feeble for the sight, Draws thro' a veil God's overwhelming light; Use arms the Soul-anon there moveth by

A more majestic Angel-and we die!

FREDERICK TENNYSON.

THE INNER VISION.

MOST sweet it is with unuplifted eyes

To pace the ground, if path there be or none, While a fair region round the traveller lies

Which he forbears again to look upon; Pleased rather with some soft ideal scene, The work of Fancy, or some happy tone Of meditation, slipping in between

The beauty coming and the beauty gone. If Thought and Love desert us, from that day Let us break off all commerce with the Muse: With Thought and Love companions of our way, Whate'er the senses take or may refuse,

The Mind's internal heaven shall shed her dews Of inspiration on the humblest lay.

WORDSWORTH.

EACH AND ALL.

I THOUGHT the sparrow's note from heaven,
Singing at dawn on the alder bough;
I brought him home in his nest at even ;—
He sings the song, but it pleases not now;
For I did not bring home the river and sky.
He sang to my ear; they sang to my eye.

The delicate shells lay on the shore;
The bubbles of the latest wave
Fresh pearls to their enamel gave;
And the bellowing of the savage sea
Greeted their safe escape to me.

I wiped away the weeds and foam,
And fetched my sea-born treasures home;

But the poor, unsightly, noisome things

Had left their beauty on the shore

With the sun, and the sand, and the wild uproar.

Then I said "I covet Truth;

Beauty is unripe childhood's cheat,

I leave it behind with the games of youth.

As I spoke, beneath my feet

The ground-pine curled its pretty wreath,
Running over the club-moss burrs ;

I inhaled the violet's breath;

Around me stood the oaks and firs;

Pine-cones and acorns lay on the ground;
Above me. soared the eternal sky,

Full of light and deity.

Again I saw, again I heard,

The rolling river, the morning bird;
Beauty through my senses stole,

I yielded myself to the perfect whole.

R. W. EMERSON.

MAN.

My God, I heard this day

That none doth build a stately habitation
But he that means to dwell therein.

What house more stately hath there been,
Or can be, than is Man? to whose creation
All things are in decay.

And more.

For Man is ev'ry thing,

He is a tree, yet bears no fruit ;
A beast, yet is, or should be, more:
Reason and speech we only bring.

Parrots may thank us if they are not mute,
They go upon the score.

« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »