Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife? IX. Oh joy! that in our embers Is something that doth live, The thought of our past years in me doth breed For that which is most worthy to be blest ; Of Childhood, whether busy or at rest, With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast. Not for these I raise The song of thanks and praise; But for those obstinate questionings Blank misgivings of a Creature Moving about in worlds not realised, High instincts before which our mortal Nature Those shadowy recollections, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing ; Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make Our noisy years seem moments in the being Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour, Nor all that is at enmity with joy, Can utterly abolish or destroy ! Hence in a season of calm weather Though inland far we be, Our souls have sight of that immortal sea Can in a moment travel thither, And see the Children sport upon the shore, X. Then sing, ye Birds, sing, sing a joyous song! As to the tabor's sound! We in thought will join your throng, Ye that pipe and ye that play, Ye that through your hearts to-day What though the radiance which was once so bright Though nothing can bring back the hour Which having been must ever be ; In the faith that looks through death XI. And O, ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills, and Groves, Forbode not any severing of our loves! Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might: I only have relinquished one delight To live beneath your more habitual sway. I love the Brooks which down their channels fret, Even more than when I tripped lightly as they ; The innocent brightness of a new-born Day Is lovely yet; The Clouds that gather round the setting sun That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality; Another race hath been, and other palms are won. Mir. CCLVI. THE TEMPEST. ACT I. SCENE II.-The Island. Before Prospero's cell. F by your art, my dearest father, you have pitch, But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's' cheek, With those that I saw suffer: a brave vessel, Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere It should the good ship so have swallowed and I have done nothing but in care of thee, 1 Welkin, the vault of heaven. Saxon, wolc, wolcen; German, wolke, a cloud. Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who Mir. Did never meddle with my thoughts. Pros. More to know 'Tis time Lend thy hand, So: I should inform thee farther. And pluck my magic garment from me. [Lays down his mantle. Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort. I have, with such provision in mine art, Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune, Brought to this shore; and by my prescience A most auspicious star, whose influence Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions [Miranda sleeps. Come away, servant, come. I am ready now. Enter ARIEL. Ari. All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly, F F To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride On the curled clouds, to thy strong bidding task Pros. Hast thou, spirit, Performed to point the tempest that I bade thee? I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak, Pros. My brave spirit ! Who was so firm, so constant, that, this coil Ari. Not a soul But felt a fever of the mad and played Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners Pros. But was not this nigh shore? Ari. Why, that's my spirit! Close by, my master. Not a hair perished; Pros. But are they, Ariel, safe? On their sustaining garments not a blemish, But fresher than before: and, as thou badest me, |