LXXXI. For then he was inspired, and from him came, Broken and trembling to the yoke she bore, Roused up to too much wrath, which follows o'ergrown fears? LXXXII. They made themselves a fearful monument! The wreck of old opinions things which grew, Breathed from the birth of time: the veil they rent, And what behind it lay all earth shall view. But good with ill they also overthrew, Leaving but ruins, wherewith to rebuild Upon the same foundation, and renew Dungeons and thrones, which the same hour re-fill'd, As heretofore, because ambition was self-will'd. LXXXIII. But this will not endure, nor be endured! Mankind have felt their strength, and made it felt. LXXXIV. What deep wounds ever closed without a scar? With their own hopes, and have been vanquish'd bear Fix'd Passion holds his breath, until the hour To punish or forgive-in one we shall be slower. passionate, yet not impure, description and expression of love that ever kindled into words; which, after all, must be felt, from their very force, to be inadequate to the de1meation—a painting can give no sufficient idea of the ocean. LXXXV. Clear, placid Leman! thy contrasted lake, That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved. LXXXVI. It is the hush of night, and all between Thy margin and the mountains, dusk, yet clear, Or chirps the grasshopper one good-night carol more ; LXXXVII. He is an evening reveller, who makes LXXXVIII. Ye stars! which are the poetry of heaven! Our destinies o'erleap their mortal state, A beauty and a mystery, and create In us such love and reverence from afar, That fortune, fame, power, life, have named themselves a star. LXXXIX. All heaven and earth are still though not in sleep, Where not a beam, nor air, nor leaf is lost, XC. Then stirs the feeling infinite, so felt A truth, which through our being then doth melt And purifies from self: it is a tone, The soul and source of music, which makes known Like to the fabled Cytherea's zone, Binding all things with beauty; - 'twould disarm The spectre Death, had he substantial power to harm. XCI. Not vainly did the early Persian make Of earth-o'ergazing mountains ('), and thus take The Spirit, in whose honour shrines are weak, (1) It is to be recollected, that the most beautiful and impressive doctrines of the divine Founder of Christianity were delivered, not in the Temple, but on the Mount. To wave the question of devotion, and turn to human eloquence,-the most effectual and splendid specimens were not pronounced within walls. Demosthenes addressed the public and popular assemblies. Cicero spoke in the forum. That this added to their effect on the mind of both orator and hearers, may be conceived from the difference between what we read of the emotions then and there produced, and those we ourselves experience in the perusal in the closet. It is one thing to read the Iliad at Sigæum and on the tumuli, or by the springs with Mount Ida above, and the plain and rivers and Archipelago around you; and another to trim your taper over it in a snug library this I know. Were the early and rapid progress of what is called Methodism to be attributed to any cause beyond the enthusiasm excited by its vehement faith and doctrines (the truth or error of which I presume neither to canvass nor to question) I should venture to asscribe it to the practice of preaching in the fields, and the unstudied and extemporane ous effusions of its teachers. XCII. Thy sky is changed! —and such a change! Oh night, (') From peak to peak, the rattling crags among XCIII. And this is in the night: Most glorious night! A sharer in thy fierce and far delight, XCIV. Now, where the swift Rhone cleaves his way between In hate, whose mining depths so intervene, That they can meet no more, though broken-hearted! Which blighted their life's bloom, and then departed: Of years all winters, war within theinselves to wage. The Mussulmans, whose erroneous devotion (at least in the lower orders) is most sincero, and therefore impressive, are accustomed to repeat their prescribed orisons and prayers wherever they may be, at the stated hours-of course frequently in the open air, kneeling upon a light mat, (which they carry for the purpose of a bed or cushion as required:) the ceremony lasts some minutes, during which they are totally absorbed, and only living in their supplication: nothing can disturb them. On me the simple and ontire sincerity of these men, and the spirit which appeared to be within and upon them, made a far greater impression than any general rite which was ever performed in places of worship, of which I have seen those of almost every persuasion under the sun; including most of own sectaries, and the Greek, the Catholic, the Armenian, the Lutheran, the Jewish, and the Mahometan. Many of the negroes, of whom there are numbers in the Turkish empire, are idolaters, and have free exercise of their belief and its rites; some of these I had a distant view of at Patras, and from what I could make out of them, they appeared to be of a truly Pagan description, and not very agreeable to a spectator. (1) The thunder-storm to which these lines refer occurred on the 13th of June, 1816 at midnight. I have seen, among the Acroceraunian mountains of Chimari, several more terrible, but none more beautiful. XCV. Now, where the quick Rhone thus hath cleft his way That in such gaps as desolation work'd, There the hot shaft should blast whatever therein lurk'd. XCVI. Sky, mountains, river, winds, lake, lightnings! ye! With night, and clouds, and thunder, and a soul Of what in me is sleepless, - if I rest. But where of ye, oh tempests! is the goal? Or do ye find, at length, like eagles, some high nest? XCVII. Could I embody and unbosom now - That which is most within me, could I wreak With a most voiceless thought, sheathing it as a sword. XCVIII. The morn is up again, the dewy morn, With breath all incense, and with cheek all bloom, Laughing the clouds away with playful scorn, And living as if earth contain'd no tomb, And glowing into day: we may resume Much, that may give us pause, if ponder'd fittingly. |