Before me rose a pinnacle of rock,
Lifted above the wood that hemmed it in,
And now already glowing. There the beams
Came from the far horizon, and they wrapped it
In light and glory. Round its vapoury cone
A crown of far-diverging rays shot out,
And gave to it the semblance of an altar
Lit for the worship of the undying flame,
That centred in the circle of the sun,
Now coming from the ocean's fathomless caves,
Anon would stand in solitary pomp
Above the loftiest peaks, and cover them
With splendour as a garment. Thitherward
I bent my eager steps; and through the grove
Now dark as deepest night, and thickets hung
With a rich harvest of unnumbered gems,
Waiting the clearer dawn to catch the hues
Shed from the starry fringes of its veil
On cloud and mist and dew, and backward thrown
With undiminished beauty, on I went
Mounting with hasty foot, and thence emerging
I scaled that rocky steep, and there awaited
Silent-the full appearing of the sun.
Below there lay a far extended sea
Rolling in feathery waves. The wind blew o'er it,
And tossed it round the high ascending racks,
And swept it through the half hidden forest tops,
Till, like an ocean waking into storm,
It heaved and weltered. Gloriously the light
Crested its billows, and those craggy islands
Shone on it like to palaces of spar
Built on a sea of pearl. Far overhead
The sky without a vapour or a stain,
Intensely blue, even deepened into purple,
Where nearer the horizon it received
A tincture from the mist that there dissolved
Into the viewless air, the sky bent round
The awful dome of a most mighty temple
Built by omnipotent hands for nothing less
Than infinite worship. There I stood in silence-
I had no words to tell the mingled thoughts
Of wonder and of joy, that then came o'er me,
Even with a whirlwind's rush. So beautiful,
So bright, so glorious! Such a majesty
In yon pure vault! So many dazzling tints
In yonder waste of waves,-so like the ocean
With its unnumbered islands there incircled
By foaming surges, that the mounting eagle,
Lifting his fearless pinion through the clouds
To bathe in purest sunbeams, seemed an ospray
Hovering above his prey, and yon tall pines,
Their tops half mantled in a snowy veil,
A frigate with full convass, bearing on
To conquest and to glory. But even these,
Had round them something of the lofty air
In which they moved;-not like to things of earth,
But heightened, and made glorious, as became
Such pomp and splendour.
Who can tell the brightness,
That every moment caught a newer glow;
That circle, with its centre like the heart
Of elemental fire, and spreading out
In floods of liquid gold on the blue sky
And on the opaline waves, crowned with a rainbow
Bright as the arch that bent above the throne
Seen in a vision by the holy man
In Patmos! Who can tell how it ascended,
And flowed more widely o'er that lifted ocean
Till instantly the unobstructed sun
Rolled up his sphere of fire, floating away-
Away in a pure ether, far from earth,
And all its clouds, and pouring forth unbounded
His arrowy brightness! From that burning centre
At once there ran along the level line
Of that imagined sea, a stream of gold—
Liquid and flowing gold, that seemed to tremble
Even with a furnace heat, on to the point,
Whereon I stood. At once that sea of vapour
Parted away, and melting into air
Rose round me, and I stood involved in light,
As if a flame had kindled up, and wrapped me
In its innocuous blaze. Away it rolled,
Wave after wave. Then climbed the highest rocks,
Poured over them in surges, and then rushed
Down glens and valleys, like a wintry torrent
Dashed instant to the plain. It seemed a moment,
And they were gone, as if the touch of fire
At once dissolved them. Then I found myself
Midway in air;-ridge after ridge below,
Descended with their opulence of woods
Even to the dim seen level, where a lake
Flashed in the sun, and from it wound a line,
Now silvery bright even to the farthest verge
Of the encircling hills. A waste of rocks
Was round me-but below how beautiful,
How rich the plain-a wilderness of groves
And ripening harvests; while the sky of June-
The soft blue sky of June, and the cool air,
That makes it then a luxury to live,
Only to breathe it, and the busy echo
Of cascades, and the voice of mountain brooks,
Stole with such gentle meanings to my heart,
That where I stood seemed Heaven.
Oh that dreams were not dreams, for mine have been The shadows of my hopes. Thence have I grown In love with ideal forms. In youth I saw Most beauteous beings in mine hours of sleepFair maidens with their bright and sunny locks Falling o'er necks whose hue was of the snow, O'er bosoms whose soft throbbings not the veil Of gossamer could hide from the tranced eye. I saw, when that my cheek had lost its down, And I wrote MAN, a world of glittering words Writ by the hand of health upon that leaf
Of human life. I saw bright swords, brave plumes,
And staves of office-robes of honour-all
That speak of high employment, and awards
Of national emprises. Other thoughts
That were by day, hopes, and in slumber, dreams,
Came to me, of my line continued in
Illustrious heirs. The boy upon my knee
Became a Socrates, and he who played
With the dark ringlets on his mother's brow,
The saviour of a realm. The little maid
Who, lost in mimic tenderness, caressed
A pasteboard emblem of our helpless state,
I wedded to a warrior, sworn and pledged
To die as had his fathers, at the call
Of liberty.
Time flew, and I am now
An aged man with hoary hair, and step
All trembling; yet I entertain a crowd
Of dreams, but they are of the world whereto
Age, and hopes crushed are hurrying me.
In slumber an offended God, begirt
With Cherubim around his hidden throne,-
And angels of his attributes, the guards
Of his dominions. They who represent
Truth, Peace, and Justice ask the darker doom
Upon my head, for I had wildly erred;
But Mercy, darling child of the Most High,
Pleads for me, and prevails. I hear a voice
Ring through the spheres of heaven-a voice of love
Pronouncing pardon, and I join the choir
That worships, and shall worship him eternally.
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