My imperial mountains crown'd with cloud, and snow, and fire; My sea-like forests, every blade and blossom Which finds a grave or cradle in my bosom, Were stamp'd by thy strong hate into a lifeless mire. How art thou sunk, withdrawn, cover'd, drunk up And from beneath, around, within, above, Bursts in like light on caves cloven by thunder-ball. THE MOON. The snow upon my lifeless mountains My solid oceans flow, and sing, and shine: Gazing on thee I feel, I know Green stalks burst forth, and bright flowers grow, And living shapes upon my bosom move: Dark with the rain new buds are dreaming of: "Tis love, all love! THE EARTH. It interpenetrates my granite mass, Through tangled roots and trodden clay doth pass, Into the utmost leaves, and delicatest flowers; Upon the winds, among the clouds 'tis spread, It wakes a life in the forgotten dead, They breathe a spirit up from their obscurest bowers, And like a storm bursting its cloudy prison With thunder, and with whirlwind, has arisen Out of the lampless caves of unimagined being : With earthquake shock and swiftness making shiver Thought's stagnant chaos, unremoved for ever, Till hate, and fear and pain, light-vanquish'd shadows, fleeing, Leave man, who was a many-sided mirror, Which could distort to many a shape of error, This true fair world of things, a sea reflecting love; Which over all his kind, as the sun's heaven Gliding o'er ocean, smooth, serene, and even Darting from starry depths radiance and light, doth move, Leave man, even as a leprous child is left, Who follows a sick beast to some warm cleft Of rocks, through which the might of healing springs is pour'd; Then when it wanders home with rosy smile, It is a spirit, then weeps on her child restored. Man, oh, not men! a chain of linked thought, Compelling the elements with adamantine stress; Man, one harmonious soul of many a soul, Whose nature is its own divine control, Where all things flow to all, as rivers to the sea; Familiar acts are beautiful through love; Labor, and pain, and grief, in life's green grove Sport like tame beasts, none knew how gentle they could be! His will, with all mean passions, bad delights A spirit ill to guide, but mighty to obey, Is as a tempest-winged ship, whose helm Love rules, through waves which dare not overwhelm, Forcing life's wildest shores to own its sovereign sway. All things confess his strength. Through the cold mass Of marble and of color his dreams pass; Bright threads whence mothers weave the robes their children wear; Language is a perpetual orphic song, Which rules with Dædal harmony a throng Of thoughts and forms, which else senseless and shapeless were. The lightning is his slave; heaven's utmost deep Gives up her stars, and like a flock of sheep They pass before his eye, are number'd, and roll on' The tempest is his steed, he strides the air And the abyss shouts from her depth laid bare, Heaven, hast thou secrets? Man unveils me; I have none. THE MOON. The shadow of white death has past From my path in heaven at last, A clinging shroud of solid frost and sleep; And through my newly-woven bowers Wander happy paramours, Less mighty, but as mild as those who keep Thy vales more deep. THE EARTH. As the dissolving warmth of dawn may fold A half-infrozen dew-globe, green, and gold, And crystalline, till it becomes a winged mist, And wanders up the vault of the blue day, Outlives the noon, and on the sun's last ray Hangs o'er the sea, a fleece of fire and amethyst. THE MOON. Thou art folded, thou art lying In the light which is undying Of thine own joy, and heaven's smile divine, All suns and constellations shower On thee a light, a life, a power Which doth array thy sphere; thou pourest thine On mine, on mine! THE EARTH. I spin beneath my pyramid of night, Which points into the heavens dreaming delight Murmuring victorious joy in my enchanted sleep; As a youth lull'd in love-dreams faintly sighing Under the shadow of his beauty lying, Of planets, struggling fierce towards heaven's free Which round his rest a watch of light and warmth THE MOON. As in the soft and sweet eclipse, High hearts are calm, and brightest eyes are dull; Thou art speeding round the sun, Through the Heavens wide and hollow, Until its hue grows like what it beholds, Athwart the western mountain it infolds, Upon its snow. THE EARTH. And the weak day weeps That it should be so. Oh, gentle Moon! the voice of thy delight Falls on me like thy clear and tender light Soothing the seaman, borne the summer night Through isles for ever calm; Oh, gentle Moon! thy crystal accents pierce The caverns of my pride's deep universe, Charming the tiger joy, whose tramplings fierce Made wounds which need thy balm. PANTHEA. I rise as from a bath of sparkling water. A bath of azure light, among dark rocks, Out of the stream of sound. IONE. Ah me! sweet sister, The stream of sound has ebb'd away from us, And you pretend to rise out of its wave, Because your words fall like the clear, soft dew Shaken from a bathing wood-nymph's limbs and hair PANTHEA. Peace! peace! A mighty Power, which is as darkness Is shower'd like night, and from within the air IONE. There is a sense of words upon mine ear. PANTHEA. A universal sound like words: Oh, list! DEMOGORGON. Thou, Earth, calm empire of a happy soul! THE EARTH. I hear: I am as a drop of dew that dies. DEMOGORGON. Thou, Moon, which gazest on the nightly Earth With wonder, as it gazes upon thee; Whilst each to men, and beasts, and the swift birth Of birds, is beauty, love, calm, harmony: THE MOON. I hear: I am a leaf shaken by thee! DEMOGORGON. Ye kings of suns and stars! Demons and Gods, Ethereal Dominations! who possess Elysian, windless, fortunate abodes Beyond Heaven's constellated wilderness: A VOICE FROM ABOVE. Our great Republic hears: we are blest, and bless. DEMOGORGON. Ye happy dead! whom beams of brightest verse A VOICE FROM BENEATH. Or as they Whom we have left, we change and pass away DEMOGORGON. Ye elemental Genii, who have homes From man's high mind even to the central stone Of sullen lead; from Heaven's star-fretted domes To the dull weed some sea-worm battens on A CONFUSED VOICE. We hear: thy words waken Oblivion. DEMOGORGON. Spirits! whose homes are flesh; ye beasts and birds, Ye worms, and fish; ye living leaves and buds; Lightning and wind; and ye untamable herds, Meteors and mists, which throng air's solitudes: Hath then the gloomy Power Whose reign is in the tainted sepulchres Seized on her sinless soul? Must then that peerless form Which love and admiration cannot view Which steal like streams along a field of snow, As breathing marble, perish? Leave nothing of this heavenly sight On which the lightest heart might moralize? Stealing o'er sensation, Which the breath of roseate morning Yes! she will wake again, Although her glowing limbs are motionless, And silent those sweet lips, Once breathing eloquence, That might have soothed a tiger's rage, Or thaw'd the cold heart of a conqueror. Her dewy eyes are closed, And on their lids, whose texture fine Scarce hides the dark-blue orbs beneath, The baby Sleep is pillow'd: Her golden tresses shade The bosom's stainless pride, Curling like tendrils of the parasite Around a marble column. Hark! whence that rushing sound? "Tis like the wondrous strain That round a lonely ruin swells, Which, wandering on the echoing shore, Are like the moonbeams when they fall Behold the chariot of the Fairy Queen! Celestial coursers paw the unyielding air; Their filmy pennons at her word they furl, And stop obedient to the reins of light: These the Queen of spells drew in, She spread a charm around the spot, And leaning graceful from the ethereal car, Long did she gaze, and silently, Upon the slumbering maid. Oh! not the vision'd poet in his dreams, I am the Fairy MAB: to me 'tis given Ascend the car with me! The chains of earth's immurement Fell from Ianthe's spirit; They shrank and brake like bandages of straw Beneath a waken'd giant's strength. She knew her glorious change, And felt in apprehension uncontroll'd New raptures opening round: Each day-dream of her mortal life, Each frenzied vision of the slumbers That closed each well-spent day, Seem'd now to meet reality. The Fairy and the Soul proceeded; Unfurl'd their azure pennons, and the Queen, The magic car moved on. The night was fair, and countless stars Just o'er the eastern wave The atmosphere in flaming sparkles flew, Now it flew far above a rock, The utmost verge of earth, The rival of the Andes, whose dark brow Lower'd o'er the silver sea. Far, far below the chariot's path Seem'd it, that the chariot's way Lay through the midst of an immense concave, Radiant with million constellations, tinged With shades of infinite color, And semicircled with a belt The magic car moved on. As they approach'd their goal, The coursers seem'd to gather speed; The sea no longer was distinguish'd; earth Appear'd a vast and shadowy sphere: The sun's unclouded orb Roll'd through the black concave; (1) Parted around the chariot's swifter course, Dash'd from the boiling surge Before a vessel's prow. The magic car moved on. Earth's distant orb appear'd The smallest light that twinkles in the heaven; Whilst round the chariot's way It was a sight of wonder: some Spirit of Nature! here! In this interminable wilderness Yet not the slightest leaf Yet not the meanest worm That lurks in graves and fattens on the dead Spirit of Nature! thou! II. IF solitude hath ever led thy steps Seem'd resting on the burnish'd wave, Of purple gold, that motionless Hung o'er the sinking sphere: Thou must have mark'd the billowy clouds Towering like rocks of jet Crown'd with a diamond wreath. And yet there is a moment, When the sun's highest point Peeps like a star o'er ocean's western edge, Yet not the golden island Nor the feathery curtains Paving that gorgeous dome, So fair, so wonderful a sight As Mab's ethereal palace could afford. |