And still the shadow of vain dreams shall fall O'er thy mind's world, a daily darkening pall. Fold, then, thy wounded wing, and sink subdued, Then my soul yielded; spells of numbing breath Its powers, like leaves before the night-rain, closing; On the chill bosom of some desert coast, Mutely and hopelessly I lay reposing. When silently it seem'd As if a soft mist gleam'd Before my passive sight, and, slowly curling, To many a shape and hue Of vision'd beauty grew, Like a wrought banner, fold by fold unfurling. Oh! the rich scenes that o'er mine inward eye With dreamy motion! Silvery seas were there Still gathering lustre on th' illumin'd way, Till its high groves of wondrous flowering trees Colour'd the silvery seas. And then a glorious mountain-chain uprose, A soaring solitude of woods and snows, While as it pass'd, those regal peaks unveiling, And mighty sounds, as if the vision hailing, From lyres that quiver'd through ten thousand strings: Or as if waters forth to music leaping, From many a cave, the Alpine Echo's hall, On their bold way victoriously were sweeping, Voices, like ringing crystal, fill'd the air My being's core; then, moulding into word Of tones, by Love and Faith struck from a human heart. Return no more, vain bodings of the night! A happier oracle within my soul Hath swell'd to power;—a clear unwavering light Mounts through the battling clouds that round me roll, And to a new control Nature's full harp gives forth rejoicing tones, Wherein my glad sense owns Th' accordant rush of elemental sound To one consummate harmony profound; One grand Creation-Hymn, Whose notes the Seraphim Lift to the glorious height of music wing'd and crown'd. Shall not those notes find echoes in my lyre, Faithful though faint?-Shall not my spirit's fire, If slowly, yet unswervingly, ascend Now to its fount and end? Shall not my earthly love, all purified, Shine forth a heavenward guide? An angel of bright power?-and strongly bear Where fiery passion-clouds have no abode, In The radiant hope new-born Expands like rising morn my life's life and as a ripening rose, The crimson shadow of its glory throws More vivid, hour by hour, on some pure stream; So from that hope are spreading Rich hues, o'er nature shedding, Each day, a clearer, spiritual gleam. Let not those rays fade from me ;—once enjoy'd, Father of spirits! let them not depart ! Leaving the chill'd earth, without form and void, Darken'd by mine own heart! Lift, aid, sustain me! Thou, by whom alone All lovely gifts and pure In the soul's grasp endure;— Thou, to the steps of whose eternal throne All knowledge flows-a sea for evermore O consecrate my life! that I may sing Of Thee with joy that hath a living spring, Through the resounding mountains waft thy praise, |