Thy hungry barkings to the hymn Of joy, that from her utmost walls All worlds, all natures, mood and measure keep XIV. A Voice to Light gave Being; To Time, and Man his earth-born chronicler; To archangelic lips applied. The grave shall open, quench the stars. O Silence, are Man's noisy years No more than moments of thy life? Thy destined bond-slave? No! though Earth be dust 17* ODE. COMPOSED UPON AN EVENING OF EXTRAORDINARY BEAUTY AND SPLENDOR. I. HAD this effulgence disappeared With flying haste, I might have sent, But 't is endued with power to stay What is ?-ah no, but what can be! While choirs of fervent Angels sang Or, crowning, star-like, each some sovereign height, Warbled, for heaven above and earth below, Strains suitable to both.-Such holy rite, Methinks, if audibly repeated now Than doth this silent spectacle-the gleam- II. No sound is uttered,-but a deep And solemn harmony pervades The hollow vale from steep to steep, And penetrates the glades. Far-distant images draw nigh, Called forth by wondrous potency Of beamy radiance that imbues, Whate'er it strikes, with gem-like hues! Herds range along the mountain-side; Thine is the tranquil hour, purpureal Eve! A portion of the gift is won; An intermingling of Heaven's pomp is spread And, if there be, whom broken ties Afflict, or injuries assail, Yon hazy ridges to their eyes Present a glorious scale, Climbing suffused with sunny air, To stop-no record hath told where! And tempting Fancy to ascend And with immortal Spirits blend! On those bright steps that heaven-ward raise Come forth, ye drooping old men, look abroad And if some traveller, weary of his road, Hath slept since noon-tide on the grassy ground, Ye Genii! to his covert speed; And wake him with such gentle heed? As may attune his soul to meet the dower IV. Such hues from their celestial Urn This glimpse of glory, why renewed? Survived, 't was only in my dreams. Dread Power! whom peace and calmness serve From THEE if I would swerve; Oh, let thy grace remind me of the light -T is past, the visionary splendor fades; 1818. Note. The multiplication of mountain-ridges, described at the commencement of the third Stanza of this Ode, as a kind of Jacob's Ladder, leading to Heaven, is produced either by watery vapors or sunny haze; in the present instance by the latter cause. Allusions to the Ode, entitled "Intimations of Immortality," pervade the last Stanza of the foregoing Poem RUTH. WHEN Ruth was left half desolate, Her Father took another Mate; And Ruth, not seven years old, And she had made a pipe of straw, Beneath her father's roof, alone She seemed to live; her thoughts her own; Herself her own delight; Pleased with herself, nor sad, nor gay; And, passing thus the live-long day, She grew to woman's height. There came a Youth from Georgia's shore— A military casque he wore, With splendid feathers drest He brought them from the Cherokees The feathers nodded in the breeze, And made a gallant crest. From Indian blood you deem him sprung: And, when America was free He 'cross the ocean came. |