The comrade of thy wanderings over heaven, As then, when to outstrip thy skiey speed Scarce seemed a vision; I would ne'er have striven As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need. Oh! lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud! I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed! A heavy weight of hours has chained and bowed V. Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is: 50 55 Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone, 60 Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, spirit fierce, Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth! And, by the incantation of this verse, 65 Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind! The trumpet of a prophecy! O, wind, If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind? 70 1819. SOPHIA. I. THOU art fair, and few are fairer Those soft limbs of thine, whose motion Ever falls and shifts and glances As the life within them dances. 5 II. Thy deep eyes, a double Planet, With soft clear fire, — the winds that fan it Are those thoughts of tender gladness Which, like Zephyrs on the billow, Make thy gentle soul their pillow. III. If whatever face thou paintest In those eyes grows pale with pleasure, If the fainting soul is faintest When it hears thy harp's wild measure, IV. As dew beneath the wind of morning, As the sea which Whirlwinds waken, Of the eternal where and when, Of acts and ages yet to come! Glorious shapes have life in thee, Living globes which ever throng And icy moons most cold and bright, Even thy name is as a god, Of that power which is the glass Worship thee with bended knees. Thou remainest such alway. Second Spirit. Thou art but the mind's first chamber, Lighted up by stalactites; But the portal of the grave, Where a world of new delights Will make thy best glories seem But a dim and noonday gleam From the shadow of a dream! ΤΟ 15 20 25 330 35 |