Fairy. I am the Fairy MAB: to me'tis given The wonders of the human world to keep: The secrets of the immeasurable past, In the unfailing consciences of men, Those stern, unflattering chroniclers, I find: The future, from the causes which arise In each event, I gather: not the sting Which retributive memory implants In the hard bosom of the selfish man; Nor that ecstatic and exulting throb
Which virtue's votary feels when he sums up The thoughts and actions of a well-spent day, Are unforeseen, unregistered by me: And it is yet permitted me, to rend The veil of mortal frailty, that the spirit, Clothed in its changeless purity, may know How soonest to accomplish the great end For which it hath its being, and may taste That peace which, in the end, all life will share. This is the meed of virtue; happy Soul, 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 wakened giant's strength.
She knew her glorious change, And felt in apprehension uncontrolled New raptures opening round: Each day-dream of her mortal life, Each frenzied vision of the slumbers That closed each well-spent day, Seemed now to meet reality.
The Fairy and the Soul proceeded; The silver clouds disparted; And, as the car of magic they ascended, Again the speechless music swelled, Again the coursers of the air
Unfurled their azure pennons, and the Queen, Shaking the beamy reins,
Bade them pursue their way.
The magic car moved on.
The night was fair, and countless stars Studded heaven's dark blue vaults,-
Just o'er the eastern wave
Peeped the first faint smile of morn :— The magic car moved on-
From the celestial hoofs
The atmosphere in flaming sparkles flew,
And where the burning wheels Eddied above the mountain's loftiest peak, Was traced a line of lightning. Now it flew far above a rock, The utmost verge of earth,
The rival of the Andes, whose dark brow Lowered o'er the silver sea.
Far, far below the chariot's path, Calm as a slumbering babe, Tremendous Ocean lay.
The mirror of its stillness showed The pale and waning stars, The chariot's fiery track, And the grey light of morn Tinging those fleecy clouds That canopied the dawn. Seemed it, that the chariot's way
Lay through the midst of an immense concave, Radiant with million constellations, tinged With shades of infinite colour,
And semicirled with a belt Flashing incessant meteors.
The magic car moved on.
As they approached their goal, The coursers seemed to gather speed:
The sea no longer was distinguished; earth Appeared a vast and shadowy sphere:
The sun's unclouded orb
Rolled through the black concave;
Its rays of rapid light
Parted around the chariot's swifter course, And fell like ocean's feathery spray Dashed from the boiling surge
Before a vessel's prow.
The magic car moved on.
Earth's distant orb appeared
The smallest light that twinkles in the heaven; Whilst round the chariot's way Innumerable systems rolled, And countless spheres diffused An ever-varying glory.
It was a sight of wonder: some Were horned like the crescent moon;
Some shed a mild and silver beam
Like Hesperus o'er the western sea;
Some dash'd athwart with trains of flame,
Like worlds to death and ruin driven;
Some shone like suns and, as the chariot passed, Eclipsed all other light.
Spirit of Nature! here!
In this interminable wilderness Of worlds, at whose immensity Even soaring fancy staggers, Here is thy fitting temple. Yet not the lightest leaf That quivers to the passing breeze Is less instinct with thee:
Yet not the meanest worm
That lurks in graves, and fattens on the dead, Less shares thy eternal breath.
Spirit of Nature! thou! Imperishable as this scene, Here is thy fitting temple.
Ir solitude hath ever led thy steps To the wild ocean's echoing shore, And thou hast lingered there Until the sun's broad orb
Seemed resting on the burnished wave,
Thou must have marked the lines
Of purple gold, that motionless
Hung o'er the sinking sphere:
Thou must have marked the billowy clouds,
Edged with intolerable radiancy,
Towering like rocks of jet
Crowned 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, When those far clouds of feathery gold, Shaded with deepest purple, gleam Like islands on a dark blue sea; Then has thy fancy soared above the earth, And furled its wearied wing
Within the Fairy's fane.
Yet not the golden islands Gleaming in yon flood of light,
Nor the feathery curtains
Stretching o'er the sun's bright couch, Nor the burnished ocean's waves
Paving that gorgeous dome,
So fair, so wonderful a sight
As Mab's ethereal palace could afford. Yet likest evening's vault, that fairy Hall!
A Heaven, low resting on the wave, it spread Its floors of flashing light, Its vast and azure dome, Its fertile golden islands Floating on a silver sea;
Whilst suns their mingling beamings darted Through clouds of circumambient darkness, And pearly battlements around
Looked o'er the immense of Heaven.
The magic car no longer moved.
The Fairy and the Spirit Entered the Hall of Spells:
Those golden clouds,
That rolled in glittering billows Beneath the azure canopy,
With the ethereal footsteps, trembled not: The light and crimson mists,
Floating to strains of thrilling melody
Through that unearthly dwelling,
Yielded to every movement of the will. Upon their passive swell the Spirit leaned, And, for the varied bliss that pressed around, Used not the glorious privilege
Of virtue and of wisdom.
Spirit! the Fairy said,
And pointed to the gorgeous dome, This is a wondrous sight,
And mocks all human grandeur;
But, were it virtue's only meed to dwell In a celestial palace, all resigned To pleasureable impulses, immured Within the prison of itself, the will
Of changeless nature would be unfulfilled. Learn to make others happy. Spirit, come! This is thine high reward:-the past shall rise; Thou shalt behold the present: I will teach The secrets of the future.
The Fairy and the Spirit Approached the overhanging battlement.- Below lay stretched the universe! There, far as the remotest line That bounds imagination's flight, Countless and unending orbs, In mazy motion intermingled, Yet still fulfilled immutably Ethereal nature's law. Above, below, around, The circling systems formed
In eloquent silence, through the depths of space
wondrous way.
There was a little light
That twinkled in the misty distance:
None but a spirit's eye
Might ken that rolling orb; None but a spirit's eye, And in no other place
But that celestial dwelling, might behold Each action of this earth's inhabitants, But matter, space, and time,
In those aerial mansions cease to act: And all-prevailing wisdom, when it reaps The harvest of its excellence, o'erbounds Those obstacles of which an earthly soul Fears to attempt the conquest.
The Fairy pointed to the earth. The Spirit's intellectual eye Its kindred beings recognized.
The thronging thousands, to a passing view, Seemed like an ant-hill's citizens.
How wonderful! that even The passions, prejudices, interests,
That sway the meanest being, the weak touch That moves the finest nerve,
And in one human brain
Causes the faintest thought, becomes a link In the great chain of nature.
Behold, the Fairy cried, Palmyra's ruined palaces!-
Behold! where grandeur frowned; Behold! where pleasure smiled; What now remains?-the memory Of senselessness and shame What is immortal there? Nothing-it stands to tell A melancholy tale, to give An awful warning: soon Oblivion will steal silently
The remnant of its fame.
Monarchs and conquerors there Proud o'er prostrate millions trod- The earthquakes of the human race; Like them, forgotten when the ruin
That marks their shock is past. Beside the eternal Nile
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