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What if earth can clothe and feed

Amplest millions at their need, [seed? And power in thought be as the tree within the Or what if Art, an ardent intercessor,

Diving on fiery wings to Nature's throne, Checks the great mother stooping to caress her,

And cries, give me, thy child, dominion Over all height and depth ? if Life can breed

New wants, and wealth from those who toil

and groan,

Rend of thy gifts and hers a thousandfold for



Come thou, but lead out of the inmost cave

Of man's deep spirit, as the morning-star Beckons the Sun from the Eoan wave,

Wisdom. I hear the pennons of her car Self-moving like cloud charioted by flame;

Comes she not, and come ye not,

Rulers of eternal thought, To judge with solemn truth life's ill-apportioned

lot? Blind Love, and equal Justice, and the Fame

Of what has been, the Hope of what will be? O, Liberty! if such could be thy name Wert thou disjoined from these, or they from

thee : If thine or theirs were treasures to be bought

By blood or tears, have not the wise and free Wept tears, and blood like tears ? The solemn



Paused, and the spirit of that mighty singing

To its abyss was suddenly withdrawn ; Then as a wild swan, when sublimely winging

Its path athwart the thunder-smoke of dawn, Sinks headlong through the aërial golden light

On the heavy sounding plain,

When the bolt has pierced its brain ; As summer clouds dissolve unburthened of their

rain ;

As a far taper fades with fading night;

As a brief insect dies with dying day, My song, its pinions disarrayed of might,

Drooped ; o'er it closed the echoes far away Of the great voice which did its flight sustain,

As waves which lately paved his watery way Hiss round a drowner's head in their tempest

uous play.


And like a dying lady, lean and pale,
Who totters forth, wrapt in a gauzy veil,
Out of her chamber, led by the insane
And feeble wanderings of her fading brain,
The moon arose upon the murky earth,
A white and shapeless mass.



From her couch of snows
In the Acroceraunian mountains,

From cloud and from crag

With many a jag, Shepherding her bright fountains.

She leapt down the rocks

With her rainbow locks Streaming among the streams ;

Her steps paved with green

The downward ravine Which slopes to the western gleams :

And gliding and springing,

She went, ever singing, In murmurs as soft as sleep;

The Earth seemed to love her,

And Heaven smiled above her, As she lingered towards the deep.

Then Alpheus bold,

On his glacier cold, With his trident the mountains strook ;

And opened a chasm

In the rocks ;with the spasm All Erymanthus shook.

And the black south wind

It concealed behind
The urns of the silent snow,

And earthquake and thunder

Did rend in sunder
The bars of the springs below:

The beard and the hair

Of the river God were
Seen through the torrent's sweep,

As he followed the light

Of the fleet nymph's flight
To the brink of the Dorian deep.

Oh, save me! Oh, guide me!

And bid the deep hide me, For he grasps me now by the hair!”

The loud Ocean heard,

To its blue depth stirred,
And divided at her prayer ;

And under the water

The Earth's white daughter
Fled like a sunny beam ;

Behind her descended

Her billows, unblended
With the brackish Dorian stream:

Like a gloomy stain

On the emerald main
Alpheus rushed behind,

As an eagle pursuing

A dove to its ruin Down the streams of the cloudy wind. VOL. III.


Under the bowers

Where the Ocean Powers Sit on their pearled thrones;

Through the coral woods

Of the weltering floods, Over heaps of unvalued stones ;

Through the dim beams

Which amid the streams Weave a network of coloured light;

And under the caves,

Where the shadowy waves Are as green as the forest's night :

Outspeeding the shark,

And the sword-fish dark, Under the ocean foam,

And up through the rifts

Of the mountain clifts
They passed to their Dorian home.

And now from their fountains

In Enna's mountains, Down one vale where the morning basks,

Like friends once parted

Grown single-hearted, They ply their watery tasks.

At sunrise they leap

From their cradles steep
In the cave of the shelving hill ;

At noontide they flow
Through the woods below

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