Feelings that lure thee to betray, "For thou hast earned a mighty boon; Entranced in some diviner mood "Custom and Faith and Power thou spurnest; A living light, to cheer it long, "Therefore from Nature's inner shrine, Where gods and fiends in worship bend, Majestic spirit, be it thine The flame to seize, the veil to rend, "All that inspires thy voice of love, Spirit, leave for mine and me Earth's unsubstantial mimicry!" It ceased, and from the mute and moveless frame A radiant spirit arose, All beautiful in naked purity. Robed in its human hues it did ascend, It moved towards the car, and took its seat Obedient to the sweep of aëry song, Unfurled their prismy wings. The magic car moved on. The night was fair innumerable stars Studded heaven's dark blue vault; With the first smile of morn. The magic car moved on. From the swift sweep of wings The atmosphere in flaming sparkles flew ; Now far above a rock, the utmost verge The rival of the Andes, whose dark brow Far, far below the chariot's stormy path, Its broad and silent mirror gave to view The chariot's fiery track, Tingeing those fleecy clouds. That cradled in their folds the infant dawn. Through the abyss of an immense concave, And semicircled with a belt As they approached their goal, With the sun's cloudless orb, Parted around the chariot's swifter course, And fell like ocean's feathery spray Dashed from the boiling surge Before a vessel's prow. The magic car moved on. Earth's distant orb appeared The smallest light that twinkles in the heavens, It was a sight of wonder! Some were horned, Athwart the night with trains of bickering fire, Like sphered worlds to death and ruin driven; Some shone like stars, and as the chariot passed Bedimmed all other light. Spirit of Nature! here, In this interminable wilderness Of worlds, at whose involved immensity Even soaring fancy staggers, Here is thy fitting temple! Yet not the meanest worm, That lurks in graves and fattens on the dead, If solitude hath ever led thy steps Until the sun's broad orb Seemed resting on the fiery line of ocean, Thou must have marked the braided webs of gold That without motion hang Over the sinking sphere; Thou must have marked the billowy mountain clouds, Edged with intolerable radiancy, Towering like rocks of jet Above the burning deep; And yet there is a moment, When the sun's highest point Peers like a star o'er ocean's western edge, Then has thy rapt imagination soared Yet not the golden islands That gleam amid yon flood of purple light, That canopy the sun's resplendent couch, So fair, so wonderful a sight Its vast and azure dome; And on the verge of that obscure abyss, The magic car no longer moved. |