| |
| .. Spirit of BEAUTY, 1 that dost consecrate | |
| With thine own hues all thou dost shine upon | |
| Of human thought or form,—where art thou gone? | |
| Why dost thou pass away and leave our state, | |
| This dim vast vale of tears, vacant and desolate? | 5 |
| Ask why the sunlight not for ever | |
| Weaves rainbows o’er yon mountain river, | |
| Why aught should fail and fade that once is shown, | |
| Why fear and dream and death and birth | |
| Cast on the daylight of this earth | 10 |
| Such gloom,—why man has such a scope | |
| For love and hate, despondency and hope? | |
| |
| No voice from some sublimer world hath ever | |
| To sage or poet these responses given— | |
| Therefore the names of Demon, Ghost, and Heaven, | 15 |
| Remain the records of their vain endeavour, | |
| Frail spells—whose uttered charm might not avail to sever, | |
| From all we hear and all we see, | |
| Doubt, chance, and mutability. | |
| Thy light alone—like mist o’er mountains driven,… | 20 |
| Or moonlight on a midnight stream, | |
| Gives grace and truth to life’s unquiet dream. | |
| |
| Love, Hope, and Self-esteem, like clouds depart | |
| And come, for some uncertain moments lent: | |
| Man were immortal, and omnipotent, | 25 |
| Didst thou, unknown and awful as thou art, | |
| Keep with thy glorious train firm state within his heart … | |
| |
| While yet a boy I sought for ghosts, and sped | |
| Thro’ many a listening chamber, cave and ruin, | |
| And starlight wood, with fearful steps pursuing | 30 |
| Hopes of high talk with the departed dead. | |
| I called on poisonous names with which our youth is fed; | |
| I was not heard—I saw them not— | |
| When musing deeply on the lot | |
| Of life, at the sweet time when winds are wooing | 35 |
| All vital things that wake to bring | |
| News of birds and blossoming,— | |
| Sudden, thy shadow fell on me; | |
| I shrieked, and clasped my hands in ecstasy! | |
| |
| I vowed that I would dedicate my powers | 40 |
| To thee and thine—have I not kept the vow? | |
| With beating heart and streaming eyes, even now | |
| I call the phantoms of a thousand hours | |
| Each from his voiceless grave: they have in vision’d bow’rs | |
| Of studious zeal or love’s delight | 45 |
| Outwatched with me the envious night— | |
| They know that never joy illumed my brow | |
| Unlinked with hope that thou wouldst free | |
| This world from its dark slavery … | |
