XVI. O that the wise from their bright minds would kindle Such lamps within the dome of this dim world, That the pale name of PRIEST might shrink and dwindle Into the hell from which it first was hurled, Till human thoughts might kneel alone, Of its own aweless soul, or of the power unknown! obscure From which they spring, as clouds of glim mering dew From a white lake blot heaven's blue portraiture, Were stript of their thin masks and various hue And frowns and smiles and splendours not their own, Till in the nakedness of false and true They stand before their Lord, each to receive its due. XVII. He who taught man to vanquish whatsoever vour! If on his own high will, a willing slave, He has enthroned the oppression and the op pressor. What if earth can clothe and feed [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 thousand-fold for one. XVIII. Come thou, but lead out of the inmost cave Wisdom. I hear the pennons of her car 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 If thine or theirs were treasures to be bought XIX. Paused, and the spirit of that mighty singing 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; Drooped; o'er it closed the echoes far away THE WANING MOON. AND like a dying lady, lean and pale, 342 ARETHUSA. ARETHUSA arose From her couch of snows In the Acroceraunian mountains; Shepherding her bright fountains. With her rainbow locks 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 The bars of the springs below: The beard and the hair Seen through the torrent's sweep, To the brink of the Dorian deep. "O save me! O 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. |