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We, beyond heaven, are driven along:
How every pause is filled with undernotes,
Clear, silver, icy, keen, awakening tones, And a heaven where yet heaven could Which pierce the sense, and live within never be.
Chorus of Hours and Spirits.
Ha! they are gone!
The clouds that are heavy with love's
Yet feel you no delight
Panthea. 'Tis the deep music of the rolling world
Kindling within the strings of the waved air,
To the unpavilioned sky!
New notes arise.
By ebbing night into her western cave, When she upsprings from interlunar dreams,
O'er which is curved an orblike canopy Of gentle darkness, and the hills and woods
Distinctly seen through that dusk airy
Even whilst we speak
Regard like shapes in an enchanter's glass; What is that awful Its wheels are solid clouds, azure and
Such as ghosts dream dwell in the lampless deep,
Such as the genii of the thunderstorm
Within it sits a winged infant, white
Its plumes are as feathers of sunny frost, Its limbs gleam white, through the windflowing folds
Over each other with a thousand motions,
Intensely, slowly, solemnly roll on,
Intelligible words and music wild.
Of its white robe, woof of ethereal pearl. Its hair is white, the brightness of white light
Scattered in strings; yet its two eyes are heavens
Of liquid darkness, which the Deity
Of elemental subtlety, like light;
From jagged clouds, out of their arrowy
Seem kneaded into one aërial mass
With fire that is not brightness; in its Which drowns the sense. Within the hand
It sways a quivering moonbeam, from
Pillowed upon its alabaster arms,
A guiding power directs the chariot's prow
On its own folded wings, and wavy hair, Over its wheeled clouds, which as they The Spirit of the Earth is laid asleep, roll And you can see its little lips are moving, Amid the changing light of their own smiles,
Grinds the bright brook into an azure mist
Over the grass, and flowers, and waves, wake sounds,
Sweet as a singing rain of silver dew. Panthea. And from the other open- Like one who talks of what he loves ing in the wood in dream.
Rushes, with loud and whirlwind har
Ione. 'Tis only mocking the orb's
A sphere, which is as many thousand
Solid as crystal, yet through all its mass Like swords of azure fire, or golden Flow, as through empty space, music and light:
Ten thousand orbs involving and involved, l'urple and azure, white, and green, and golden,
Sphere within sphere; and every space between
Peopled with unimaginable shapes,
With tyrant-quelling myrtle overtwined,
Vast beams like spokes of some invisible wheel
Which whirl as the orb whirls, swifter than thought,
Filling the abyss with sun-like lightnings, And serpents, bony chains, twisted
The iron crags, or within heaps of dust Pierce the dark soil, and as they pierce To which the tortuous strength of their last pangs
Make bare the secrets of the earth's deep Had crushed the iron crags; and over heart;
Infinite mine of adamant and gold,
With vegetable silver overspread;
Whence the great sea, even as a child
Whose vapours clothe earth's monarch
And make appear the melancholy ruins
Planks turned to marble; quivers, helms, Be not!
The jagged alligator, and the might
Were monarch beasts, and on the slimy shores,
And weed-overgrown continents of earth,
On an abandoned corpse, till the blue globe
Wrapt deluge round it like a cloke, and they
Yelled, gasped, and were abolished; or some God
Whose throne was in a comet, past, and cried,
And like my words they were
Of scythed chariots, and the emblazonry
Round which death laughed, sepulchred The vaporous exultation not to be conemblems
Of dead destruction, ruin within ruin!
The joy, the triumph, the delight, the madness!
Ha ha! the animation of delight
And bears me as a cloud is borne by
Their statues, homes and fanes; pro- Some Spirit is darted like a beam from
Huddled in gray annihilation, split,
The anatomies of unknown winged
And fishes which were isles of living
Was mortal, but not human; see, they
The boundless, overflowing, bursting gladness,
Their monstrous works, and uncouth
Which penetrates my frozen frame, And passes with the warmth of flame, With love, and odour, and deep melody Through me, through me! The Earth.
Ha ha! the caverns of my hollow mountains,
My cloven fire-crags, sound-exulting fountains
Laugh with a vast and inextinguishable laughter.
The oceans, and the deserts, and the abysses,
And the deep air's unmeasured wildernesses,
Answer from all their clouds and billows, echoing after.
They cry aloud as I do. Sceptred
Who all our green and azure uni
And splinter and knead down my children's bones,
All I bring forth, to one void mass battering and blending.
Until each crag-like tower, and storied column,
Threatenedst to muffle round with black destruction, sending
Music is in the sea and air, Winged clouds soar here and there, A solid cloud to rain hot thunder- Dark with the rain new buds are dream
Is loosened into living fountains, My solid oceans flow, and sing, and shine:
A spirit from my heart bursts forth,
On mine, on mine!
Gazing on thee I feel, I know
And living shapes upon my bosom
This true fair world of things, a sea A spirit ill to guide, but mighty to obey, reflecting love; Is as a tempest-winged ship, whose
Which over all his kind as the sun's
Gliding o'er ocean, smooth, serene,
Darting from starry depths radiance and life, doth move,
It is a spirit, then, weeps on her child restored.
All things confess his strength.
Leave Man, even as a leprous child
Of marble and of colour his dreams pass;
Who follows a sick beast to some warm cleft
Of rocks, through which the might of healing springs is poured; Then when it wanders home with rosy smile, Unconscious, and its mother fears Of thoughts and forms, which else senseless and shapeless were.
Bright threads whence mothers weave the robes their children wear; Language is a perpetual orphic song, Which rules with Dædal harmony a throng
Labour, and pain, and grief, in life's green grove Sport like tame beasts, none knew how gentle they could be!
Love rules, through waves which dare not overwhelm,
Forcing life's wildest shores to own its sovereign sway.
His will, with all mean passions, bad delights,
As the dissolving warmth of dawn may fold
A half unfrozen dew-globe, green,
And selfish cares, its trembling And crystalline, till it becomes a winged