Scatter'd by winds beyond the Libyan desert,
Or melted down into the mud of Nile,

And cast in tillage o'er the corn-sown fields,

Where Memphis flourish'd, and the Pharaohs reign'd;

Egypt's grey piles of hieroglyphic grandeur,

That have survived the language which they speak, Preserving its dead emblems to the eye,

Yet hiding from the mind what these reveal - Her pyramids would be mere pinnacles,

Her giant statues, wrought from rocks of granite,
But
puny ornaments for such a pile

As this stupendous mound of catacombs,
Fill'd with dry mummies of the builder-worms.

Thus far, with undiverted thought, and eye
Intensely fix'd on ocean's concave mirror,
I watch'd the process to its finishing stroke :
Then starting suddenly, as from a trance,
Once more to look upon the blessed sun,

And breathe the gladdening influence of the wind,
Darkness fell on me; giddily my brain

Whirl'd like a torch of fire that seems a circle,
And soon to me the universe was nothing.

THE

PELICAN ISLAND.

CANTO THIRD.

NINE times the age of man that coral reef

Had bleach'd beneath the torrid noon, and borne The thunder of a thousand hurricanes,

Raised by the jealous ocean, to repel

That strange encroachment on his old domain. His rage was impotent; his wrath fulfill'd

The counsels of eternal Providence,

And 'stablish'd what he strove to overturn :

For every tempest threw fresh wrecks upon it; Sand from the shoals, exuviæ from the deep,

Fragments of shells, dead sloughs, sea-monsters'

bones,

Whales stranded in the shallows, hideous weeds
Hurl'd out of darkness by the uprooting surges ;
These, with unutterable relics more,

Heap'd the rough surface, till the various mass,
By Nature's chemistry combined and purged,
Had buried the bare rock in crumbling mould,
Not unproductive, but from time to time
Impregnated with seeds of plants, and rife
With embryo animals, or torpid forms
Of reptiles, shrouded in the clefts of trees,
From distant lands, with branches, foliage, fruit,
Pluck'd up and wafted hither by the flood.

Death's spoils, and life's hid treasures, thus enrich'd
And colonized the soil; no particle

Of meanest substance but in course was turn'd

To solid use or noble ornament.

All seasons were propitious; every wind.

From the hot Siroc to the wet Monsoon,

Temper'd the crude materials; while heaven's dew

Fell on the sterile wilderness as sweetly

As though it were a garden of the Lord;
Nor fell in vain; each drop had its commission,

And did its duty, known to Him who sent it.

Such time had past, such changes had transfigured

The aspect of that solitary isle,

When I again in spirit, as before,

Assumed mute watch above it. Slender blades

Of grass were shooting through the dark brown

earth,

Like rays of light, transparent in the sun,

Or after showers with liquid gems illumined;

Fountains through filtering sluices sallied forth,
And led fertility where'er they turn'd;

Green herbage graced their banks, resplendent

flowers

Unlock'd their treasures, and let flow their fragrance.

Then insect legions, prank'd with gaudiest hues,