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He walked along the pathway of a field Her eyes were black and lustreless and Which to the east a hoar wood shadowed
But to the west was open to the sky. There now the sun had sunk, but lines Her lips and cheeks were like things of gold dead-so pale;
Hung on the ashen clouds, and on the Her hands were thin, and through their points wandering veins
Between the black trunks of the crowded trees,
While the faint stars were gathering
Of the far level grass and nodding flowers | And weak articulations might be seen
On the brown massy woods-and in the
The broad and burning moon lingeringly
"Is it not strange, Isabel," said the
"I never saw the sun? We will walk
Her eyelashes were worn away with tears,
Which one vexed ghost inhabits, night and day,
Is all, lost child, that now remains of thee!
That night the youth and lady mingled This was the only moan she ever made. lay
HYMN TO INTELLECTUAL
In love and sleep-but when the morning came
The lady found her lover dead and cold.
But year by year lived on-in truth I
Her gentleness and patience and sad smiles,
And that she did not die, but lived to As summer winds that creep from flower to flower,-
awful shadow of some unseen Power
Floats tho' unseen amongst us,visiting
This various world with as inconstant
Her aged father, were a kind of mad- Like moonbeams that behind some piny
If madness 'tis to be unlike the world.
It visits with inconstant glance
Like hues and harmonies of evening,— Like clouds in starlight widely spread,
Like memory of music fled,-
Spirit of BEAUTY, that dost consecrate With thine own hues all thou dost shine upon
Of human thought or form,-where art thou gone?
Why dost thou pass away and leave our state,
This dim vast vale of tears, vacant and desolate ?
For love and hate, despondency and hope?
Ask why the sunlight not for ever
Why aught should fail and fade that While yet a boy I sought for ghosts, and
once is shown,
Why fear and dream and death and
Cast on the daylight of this earth
No voice from some sublimer world hath
Tosage or poet these responses given—
Remain the records of their vain endea-
From all we hear and all we see,
Or music by the night wind sent,
And come, for some uncertain moments lent,
Man were immortal, and omnipotent, Didst thou, unknown and awful as thou art,
Keep with thy glorious train firm state within his heart.
Thou messenger of sympathies, That wax and wane in lovers' eyesthat to human thought art nourishment,
Like darkness to a dying flame! Depart not as thy shadow came, Depart not-lest the grave should be, Like life and fear, a dark reality.
Or moonlight on a midnight stream, Gives grace and truth to life's unquiet dream.
Love, Hope, and Self-esteem, like clouds depart
Frail spells-whose uttered charm might not avail to sever,
Thro' many a listening chamber, cave and ruin,
And starlight wood, with fearful steps pursuing
Hopes of high talk with the departed dead.
I called on poisonous names with which
I was not heard-I saw them not-
All vital things that wake to bring News of birds and blossoming,— Sudden, thy shadow fell on me; shrieked, and clasped my hands in ecstasy!
I vowed that I would dedicate my powers
To thee and thine-have I not kept the vow?
With beating heart and streaming eyes, even now
I call the phantoms of a thousand hours
Of studious zeal or love's delight
They know that never joy illumed my
This world from its dark slavery, That thou-O awful LOVELINESS, Over its rocks ceaselessly bursts and Wouldst give whate'er these words can
In autumn, and a lustre in its sky, Which thro' the summer is not heard or seen, As if it could not be, as if it had not been!
Thus let thy power, which like the
Of nature on my passive youth
And every form containing thee,
To fear himself, and love all human kind.
The day becomes more solemn and
Thou many-coloured, many-voiced vale, When noon is past-there is a har- Over whose pines, and crags, and caverns
Fast cloud shadows and sunbeams: awful scene,
Where Power in likeness of the Arve comes down
From the ice gulphs that gird his secret throne,
LINES WRITTEN IN THE VALE OF
In the wild woods, among the mountains lone,
Where waterfalls around it leap for ever, Where woods and winds contend, and a vast river
Such as a feeble brook will oft assume
Thus thou, Ravine of Arve-dark, deep
Bursting through these dark mountains like the flame
Of lightning thro' the tempest ;-thou dost lie,
Thy giant brood of pines around thee
Children of elder time, in whose devotion
To drink their odours, and their mighty swinging
To hear an old and solemn harmony; Thine earthly rainbows stretched across the sweep
Of the ethereal waterfall, whose veil Robes some unsculptured image; the strange sleep
THE everlasting universe of things
Which when the voices of the desert fail
Flows through the mind, and rolls its Wraps all in its own deep eternity;rapid waves, Thy caverns echoing to the Arve's comNow dark-now glittering-now reflectmotion, ing gloom
Now lending splendour, where from
A loud, lone sound no other sound can
The source of human thought its tribute
Thou art the path of that unresting
Dizzy Ravine! and when I gaze on thee
To muse on my own separate phantasy, My own, my human mind, which passively
Now renders and receives fast influencings,
And the wolf tracks her there-how
Holding an unremitting interchange
bare, and high,
Ghastly, and scarred, and riven. Is this the scene
Now float above thy darkness, and now
Where the old Earthquake - dæmon taught her young
Ruin? Were these their toys? or did
Where that or thou art no unbidden
In the still cave of the witch Poesy,
Some phantom, some faint image; till
From which they fled recalls them, thou art there!
And wind among the accumulated steeps;
Some say that gleams of a remoter world Visit the soul in sleep,—that death is slumber,
So solemn, so serene, that man may be
Large codes of fraud and woe; not
And that its shapes the busy thoughts By all, but which the wise, and great,
Of those who wake and live.-I look Interpret, or make felt, or deeply feel. on high;
Has some unknown omnipotence unfurled
The veil of life and death? or do I lie
Spread far around and inaccessibly
Of fire, envelope once this silent snow?
Of frozen floods, unfathomable deeps,
The fields, the lakes, the forests, and
Ocean, and all the living things that
That vanishes among the viewless gales!
Visit the hidden buds, or dreamless sleep Its subject mountains their unearthly Holds every future leaf and flower;— forms the bound
Pile around it, ice and rock; broad vales With which from that detested trance between they leap;
The works and ways of man, their death and birth,
And that of him and all that his may be;
All things that move and breathe with Which from those secret chasms in tumult welling
toil and sound
Are born and die; revolve, subside, and Meet in the vale, and one majestic River,
Power dwells apart in its tranquillity
On which I gaze, even these primeval
Like snakes that watch their prey, from
Slow rolling on; there, many a precipice,
Have piled: dome, pyramid, and pinnacle,
A city of death, distinct with many a
And wall impregnable of beaming ice.
Rolls its perpetual stream; vast pines
Its destined path, or in the mangled soil
Branchless and shattered stand; the rocks, drawn down
From yon remotest waste, have over-
The limits of the dead and living world,
Never to be reclaimed.
Their food and their retreat for ever
Rolls its loud waters to the ocean waves,
Mont Blanc yet gleams on high :—the power is there,
The still and solemn power of many sights,
And many sounds, and much of life and death.
In the calm darkness of the moonless nights,
In the lone glare of day, the snows
Of heaven is as a law, inhabits thee!
Of man, flies far in dread; his work and
Vanish, like smoke before the tempest's CANCELLED PASSAGE OF MONT
stream, And their place is not known.
Below, Shine in the rushing torrents' restless gleam,
THERE is a voice, not understood by all,