Repells their forward passage into air;
That thence direct they seek the radiant goal
From which their course began; and, as they strike
In diff'rent lines the gazer's obvious eye,
Assume a diff'rent lustre, thro' the brede
Of colours changing from the splendid rose
To the pale violet's dejected hue.
Or shall we touch that kind access of joy,
That springs to each fair object, while we trace,
Thro' all its fabric, wisdom's artful aim
Disposing every part, and gaining still
By mean's proportion'd her benignant end?
Speak, ye, the pure delight, whose favour'd steps
The lamp of science thro' the jealous maze
Of nature guides, when haply you reveal
Her secret honors; whether in the sky,
The beauteous laws of light, the central pow'rs
That wheel the pensile planets round the year;
Whether in wonders of the rolling deep,
Or smiling fruits of pleasure-pregnant earth,
Or fine adjusted springs of life and sense
You scan the counsels of their author's hand.
What, when to rise the meditated scene, The flame of passion, thro' the struggling soul
Deep kindled, shows across that sudden blaze
The object of its rapture vast of size,
With fiercer colors and a night of shade?
What like a storm from their capacious bed
The sounding seas o'erwhelming, when the might
Of these eruptions, working from the depth
Of man's strong apprehension, shakes his frame
Ev'n to the base; from every naked sense
Of pain or pleasure dissipating all
Opinion's feeble cov'rings, and the veil
Spun from the cobweb-fashion of the times
To hide the feeling heart? Then nature speaks
Her genuine language, and the words of men,
Big with the very motion of their souls,
Declare with what accumulated force
The impetuous nerve of passion urges on
The native weight and energy of things.
Yet more; her honors where nor beauty claim, Nor shows of good the thirsty sense allure,
From passion's power alone our nature holds
Essential pleasure. Passion's fierce illapse
Rouses the mind's whole fabric; with supplies
Of daily impulse keeps the elastic pow'rs
Intensely poiz'd, and polishes anew
By that collision all the fine machine;
Else rast would rise, and foulness, by degrees
Incumb'ring, choak at last what heaven design'd
For ceaseless motion and a round of toil
But say, does every passion men endure
Thus minister delight? That name indeed
Becomes the rosy breath of love; becomes
The radiant smiles of joy, the applauding hand
Of admiration; but the bitter show'r
That sorrow sheds upon a brother's grave,
But the dumb palsy of nocturnal fear,
Or those consuming fires that gnaw the heart
Of panting indignation, find we there
To move delight? Then listen, while my tongue
The unalter'd will of heav'n with faithful awe
Reveals; what old Harmodious wont to teach
My early age; Harmodious who had weigh'd
Within his learned mind whate'er the schools
Of wisdom, or thy lonely whispering voice,
O faithful nature! dictate of the laws
Which govern and support this mighty frame
Of universal being. Of the hours
From morn to eve have stole unmark'd away,
While mute attention hung upon his lips,
As thus the sage his awful tale began.
'Twas in the windings of an ancient wood, When spotless youth with solitude resigns To sweet philosophy the studious day,
What time pale autumn shades the silent eve,
Musing I rov'd. Of good and evil much,
And much of Mortal man my thought revolv'd
When starting full on fancy's gushing eye,
The mournful image of Parthenia's fate,
That hour, O long belov'd and long deplor'd!
When blooming youth, nor gentlest wisdom's arts,
Nor Hymen's honors gather'd for thy brow,
Nor all thy lover's all thy father's tears
Avail'd to snatch thee from the cruel grave;
Thy agonizing looks, thy last farewell
Struck to the inmost feeling of my soul
As with the hand of death. At once the shade
More horrid nodded o'er me, and the winds
With hoarser murm'ring shook the branches, Dark
As midnight storms, the scene of human things,
Appear'd before me; desarts, burning sands
Where the parch'd adder dies; the frozen south,
And desolation blasting all the west
With rapine and with murder; tyrant pow'r
Here sits inthron'd in blood; the baleful charms
Of superstition there infect the skies,
And turn the sun to horror Gracious heaven!
What is the life of man? Or cannot these,
Nor these portents thy awful will suffice?
That propagated thus beyond their scope,
They rise to act their cruelties anew
In my afflicted bosom, thus decreed
The universal sensitive of pain,
The wretched heir of evils not its own!
Thus I, impatient; when at once effus'd,
A flashing torrent of celestial day
Burst through the shadowy void.
With slow descent
A purple cloud came floating through the sky,
And poiz'd at length within the circling trees,
Hung obvious to my view; till opening wide
It's lucid orb, a more than human form
Emerging lean'd majestic o'er my head,
And instant thunder shook the conscious grove.
Then melted into air the liquid cloud,
And all the shining vision stood reveal'd,
A wreath of palm his ample forehead bound,
And o'er his shoulder, mantling to his knee,
Flow'd the transparent robe, around his waist
Collected with a radiant zone of gold
Etherial; there in mystic signs engrav'd
I read his office high and sacred name,
Genius of human kind. Appall'd I gaz'd
The godlike presence; for athwart his brow
Displeasure, temper'd with a mild concern,
Look'd down reluctant on me, and his words
Like distant thunders broke the murm'ring air.
Vain are thy thoughts, O child of mortal birth,
And impotent thy tongue. Is thy short span
Capacious of this universal frame?
Thy wisdom all-sufficient? Thou, alas!
Dost thou aspire to judge between the Lord
Of nature and his works? to lift thy voice
Against the sovereign order he decreed
All good and lovely? To blaspheme the bands
Of tenderness innate and social love,
Holiest of things! by which the general orb
Of being, as with adamantine links,
Was drawn to perfect union and sustain'd
From everlasting? Hast thou felt the pangs
Of soft'ning sorrow, of indignant zeal
So grievous to the soul, as thence to wish
The ties of nature broken from thy frame;
That so thy selfish, unrelenting heart
May cease to mourn its lot, no longer then
The wretched heir of evils not its own?
O fair benevolence of gen'rous minds!
O man by nature form'd for all mankind!
He spoke abash'd and silent I remain'd,
As conscious of my lips' offence and aw'd
Before his presence, though my secret soul
Disdain'd the imputation. On the ground
I fix'd my eyes; till from his airy couch
He stoop'd sublime, and touching with his hand
My dazzling forehead, Raise thy sight he cry'd,
And let thy sense convince thy erring tongue.
I look'd, and to! the former scene was chang'd
For verdant valleys and surrounding trees,
A solitary prospect, wide and wild,
Rush'd on my senses. 'Twas a horrid pile
Of hills with many a shaggy forest mix'd
With many a sable cliff and glitt'ring stream.
Aloft recumbent o'er the hanging ridge,
The brown woods wav'd, while ever trickling springs
Wash'd from the naked roots of oak and pine,
The crumbling soil; and still at every fall
Down the steep windings of the channell❜d rock,
Remurm'ring rush'd the congregated floods
With hoarser inundation; till at last
They reach'd a grassy plain, which from the skirts
Of that high desert spread her verdant lap,
And drank the gushing moisture, where confin'd
In one smooth current, o'er the lillied vale
Clearer than glass it flow'd. Autumnal spoils
Luxuriant spreading to the rays of morn,
Blush'd o'er the cliffs, whose half incircling mounds,
As in a sylvan theatre enclos'd
That flow'ry level. On the river's brink
I spy'd a fair pavillion, which diffus'd
Its floating umbrage 'mid the silver shade
Of osiers. Now the western sun reveal'd
Between two parting cliffs his golden orb,
And pour'd across the shadow of the hills,
On rocks and floods, a yellow stream of light
That cheer'd the solemn scene. My list'ning pow'rs
Were aw'd, and every thought in silence hung,
And wondering expectation. Then the voice
Of that celestial pow'r, the mystic show
Declaring, thus my deep attention call'd.
Inhabitant of earth, to whom is giv'n The gracious ways of Providence to learn,
Receive my sayings with a stedfast ear
Know then, the sovereign spirit of the world,
Though self-collected from etherial time,
Within his own deep essence he beheld
The circling bounds of happiness unite;
Yet by immense benignity inclin'd
To spread around him that primeval joy
Which fill'd himself, he rais'd his plastic arm,
And sounded through the hollow depth of space
The strong, creative mandate. Strait arose
These heavenly orbs, the glad abodes of life
Effusive kindled by his breath divine
Thro' endless forms of being. Each inhal'd
From him its portion of the vital flame,
In measure such, that from the wide complex
Of co-existent orders, one might rise,
One order, all involving and entire.
He too beholding in the sacred light
Of his essential reason, all the shapes
Of swift contingence, all successive ties
Of action propagated through the sum
Of possible existence, he at once,
Down the long series of eventful time,
So fix'd the dates of beings so dispos'd-
To every living soul of every kind,
The field of motion and the hour of rest,
That all conspir'd to his supreme design,
To universal good; with full accord,
Answ'ring the mighty model he had chose,
The best and fairest of unnumber'd worlds
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