Into the dewy clouds. Ambition reigns

In the waste wilderness: the soul ascends
Towards her native firmament of heaven,
When the fresh eagle, in the month of May,
Upborne, at evening, on replenish'd wing,
This shaded valley leaves, and leaves the dark
Impurpled hills,-conspicuously renewing
A proud communication with the sun

Low sunk beneath the horizon! List! I heard,
From yon huge breast of rock, a solemn bleat;
Sent forth as if it were the mountain's voice,
As if the visible mountain made the cry.
Again!" The effect upon the soul was such
As he express'd; from out the mountain's heart
The solemn bleat appear'd to issue, startling
The blank air-for the region all around
Stood silent, empty of all shape of life;
It was a lamb-left somewhere to itself,
The plaintive spirit of the solitude!
He paused, as if unwilling to proceed,
Through consciousness that silence in such place
Was best, the most affecting eloquence.
But soon his thoughts return'd upon themselves,
And in soft tone of speech, he thus resumed.
"Ah! if the heart, too confidently raised,
Perchance too lightly occupied, or lull'd
Too easily, despise or overlook

The vassalage that binds her to the earth,
Her sad dependence upon time, and all
The trepidations of mortality,

What place so destitute and void-but there
The little flower her vanity shall check;
The training worm reprove her thoughtless pride?
"These craggy regions, these chaotic wilds
Does that benignity pervade, that warms
The mole contented with her darksome walk
In the cold ground; and to the emmet gives
Her foresight, and intelligence that makes
The tiny creatures strong by social league;
Supports the generations, multiplies

Their tribes, till we behold a spacious plain
Or grassy bottom, all, with little hills-
Their labour-cover'd, as a lake with waves;
Thousands of cities, in the desert place
Built up of life, and food, and means of life!
Nor wanting here, to entertain the thought,
Creatures that in communities exist,
Less, as might seem, for general guardianship,
Or through dependence upon mutual aid,
Than by participation of delight
And a strict love of fellowship, combined.
What other spirit can it be that prompts
The gilded summer flies to mix and weave
Their sports together in the solar beam,
Or in the gloom of twilight hum their joy?
More obviously, the self-same influence rules
The feather'd kinds; the fieldfare's pensive flock,
The cawing rooks, and seamews from afar,
Hovering above these inland solitudes,
By the rough wind unscatter'd, at whose call
Their voyage was begun: nor is its power
Unfelt among the sedentary fowl

That seek yon pool, and there prolong their stay
In silent congress; or together roused

Is the mute company of changeful clouds;
Bright apparition suddenly put forth,
The rainbow, smiling on the faded storm;
The mild assemblage of the starry heavens;
And the great sun, earth's universal lord!

"How bountiful is nature! he shall find
Who seeks not; and to him, who hath not ask'd,
Large measure shall be dealt. Three Sabbath-days
Are scarcely told, since, on a service bent
Of mere humanity, you clomb those heights;
And what a marvellous and heavenly show
Was to your sight reveal'd! the swains moved on
And heeded not; you linger'd, and perceived.
There is a luxury in self-dispraise;
And inward self-disparagement affords
To meditative spleen a grateful feast.
Trust me, pronouncing on your own desert,
You judge unthankfully; distemper'd nerves
Infect the thoughts: the languor of the frame
Depresses the soul's vigour. Quit your couch-
Cleave not so fondly to your moody cell;

Nor let the hallow'd powers, that shed from heaven
Stillness and rest, with disapproving eye
Look down upon your taper, through a watch
Of midnight hours, unseasonably twinkling
In this deep hollow, like a sullen star
Dimly reflected in a lonely pool.

Take courage, and withdraw yourself from ways
That run not parallel to nature's course.
Rise with the lark! your matins shall obtain
Grace, be their composition what it may,
If but with hers perform'd; climb once again,
Climb every day, those ramparts; meet the breeze
Upon their tops,-adventurous as a bee

That from your garden thither soars, to feed
On new blown heath; let yon commanding rock
Be your frequented watchtower; roll the stone
In thunder down the mountains: with all your
might

Chase the wild goat; and, if the bold red deer
Fly to these harbours, driven by hound and horn
Loud echoing, add your speed to the pursuit:
So, wearied to your hut shall you return,
And sink at evening into sound repose."
The solitary lifted toward the hills
A kindling eye; poetic feelings rush'd
Into my bosom, whence these words broke forth:
"O! what a joy it were, in vigorous health,
To have a body (this our vital frame
With shrinking sensibility endued,
And all the nice regards of flesh and blood)
And to the elements surrender it

As if it were a spirit How divine,
The liberty, for frail, for mortal man
To roam at large among unpeopled glens
And mountainous retirements, only trod
By devious footsteps; regions consecrate
To oldest time! and, reckless of the storm
That keeps the raven quiet in her nest,
Be as a presence or a motion-one
Among the many there; and, while the mists
Flying, and rainy vapours, call out shapes
And phantoms from the crags and solid earth
As fast as a musician scatters sounds

(As at a first creation and in haste

His scorn'd, or unacknowledged sovereignty.
And when the One, ineffable of name,
Of nature indivisible, withdrew
From mortal adoration or regard,

Not then was deity ingulf'd, nor man,

The rational creature, left, to feel the weight
Of his own reason, without sense or thought,
Of higher reason and a purer will,

To benefit and bless, through mightier power;
Whether the Persian-zealous to reject
Altar and image, and the inclusive walls
And roofs of temples built by human hands-
To loftiest heights ascending from their tops,
With myrtle-wreath'd tiara on his brow,
Presented sacrifice to moon and stars,
And to the winds and mother elements,
And the whole circle of the heavens, for him
A sensitive existence, and a God,

With lifted hands invoked, and songs of praise:
Or, less reluctantly to bonds of sense
Yielding his soul, the Babylonian framed
For influence undefined a personal shape;
And, from the plain, with toil immense, uprear'd
Tower eight times planted on the top of tower;
That Belus, nightly to his splendid couch
Descending, there might rest; upon that height
Pure and serene, diffused-to overlook
Winding Euphrates, and the city vast
Of his devoted worshippers, far-stretch'd,
With grove, and field, and garden, interspersed ;
Their town, and foodful region for support
Against the pressure of beleaguring war.
"Chaldean shepherds, ranging trackless fields,
Beneath the concave of unclouded skies
Spread like a sea, in boundless solitude,
Look'd on the polar star, as on a guide
And guardian of their course, that never closed
His steadfast eye. The planetary five
With a submissive reverence they beheld:
Watch'd, from the centre of their sleeping flocks
Those radiant Mercuries, that seem to move
Carrying through ether, in perpetual round,
Decrees and resolutions of the gods;
And, by their aspects, signifying works
Of dim futurity, to man reveal'd.
The imaginative faculty was lord
Of observations natural; and, thus

Led on, those shepherds made report of stars
In set rotation passing to and fro,
Between the orbs of our apparent sphere
And its invisible counterpart, adorn'd
With answering constellations, under earth,
Removed from all approach of living sight,
But present to the dead; who, so they deem'd,
Like those celestial messengers beheld
All accidents, and judges were of all.

"The lively Grecian, in a land of hills, Rivers, and fertile plains, and sounding shores, Under a cope of variegated sky,

Could find commodious place for every god,
Promptly received, as prodigally brought,
From the surrounding countries-at the choice
Of all adventurers. With unrivall❜d skill,
As nicest observation furnish'd hints
For studious fancy, did his hand bestow
On fluent operations a fix'd shape;

Metal or stone, idolatrously served,
And yet triumphant o'er this pompous show
Of art, this palpable array of sense,
On every side encounter'd; in despite
Of the gross fictions chanted in the streets
By wandering rhapsodists; and in contempt
Of doubt and bold denial hourly urged
Amid the wrangling schools-a SPIRIT hung,
Beautiful region! o'er thy towns and farms,
Statues and temples, and memorial tombs ;
And emanations were perceived; and acts
Of immortality, in nature's course,
Exemplified by mysteries, that were felt
As bonds, on grave philosopher imposed
And armed warrior; and in every grove
A gay or pensive tenderness prevail'd,
When piety more awful had relax'd.

6

Take, running river, take these locks of mine'Thus would the votary say this sever'd hair,

My vow fulfilling, do I here present,
Thankful for my beloved child's return.
Thy banks, Cephisus, he again hath trod,
Thy murmurs heard; and drunk the crystal lymph
With which thou dost refresh the thirsty lip,
And moisten all day long these flowery fields !'
And doubtless, sometimes, when the hair was shed
Upon the flowing stream, a thought arose
Of life continuous, being unimpair'd:
That hath been, is, and where it was and is
There shall endure,-existence unexposed
To the blind walk of mortal accident;
From dimunitions safe and weakening age;
While man grows old, and dwindles, and decays;
And countless generations of mankind
Depart; and leave no vestige where they trod.

"We live by admiration, hope, and love; And, e'en as these are well and wisely fix'd, In dignity of being we ascend.

But what is error?"-" Answer he who can !"
The skeptic somewhat haughtily exclaim'd:

Love, hope, and admiration-are they not Mad fancy's favourite vassals? Does not life Use them, full oft, as pioneers to ruin, Guides to destruction? Is it well to trust Imagination's light when reason's fails, Th' unguarded taper where the guarded faints? Stoop from those heights, and soberly declare What error is; and, of our errors, which Doth most debase the mind; the genuine seats power, where are they? Who shall regulate With truth, the scale of intellectual rank !" "Methinks," persuasively the sage replied, "That for this arduous office you possess Some rare advantages. Your early days A grateful recollection must supply

Of

Of much exalted good by Heaven vouchsafed
To dignify the humblest state. Your voice
Hath, in my hearing, often testified

That poor men's children, they, and they alone,
By their condition taught, can understand
The wisdom of the prayer that daily asks
For daily bread. A consciousness is yours
How feelingly religion may be learn'd
In smoky cabins, from a mother's tongue-
Heard while the dwelling vibrates to the din
Of the contiguous torrent, gathering strength

At every moment, and, with strength, increase
Of fury; or, while snow is at the door,
Assaulting and defending, and the wind,
A sightless labourer, whistles at his work-
Fearful, but resignation tempers fear,
And piety is sweet to infant minds.

The shepherd lad, who in the sunshine carves,
On the green turf, a dial, to divide
The silent hours; and who to that report
Can portion out his pleasures, and adapt
His round of pastoral duties, is not left
With less intelligence for moral things
Of gravest import. Early he perceives,
Within himself, a measure and a rule,
Which to the sun of truth he can apply,

That shines for him, and shines for all mankind.
Experience daily fixing his regards

On nature's wants, he knows how few they are,
And where they lie, how answer'd and appeased.
This knowledge ample recompense affords
For manifold privations; he refers

His notions to this standard, on this rock
Rests his desires; and hence, in after life,
Soul-strengthening patience, and sublime content.
Imagination-not permitted here

To waste her powers, as in the worldling's mind,
On fickle pleasures, and superfluous cares
And trivial ostentation-is left free
And puissant to range the solemn walks
Of time and nature, girded by a zone
That, while it binds, invigorates and supports.
Acknowledge, then, that whether by the side
Of his poor hut, or on the mountain top,
Or in the cultured field, a man so bred
(Take from him what you will upon the score
Of ignorance or illusion) lives and breathes
For noble purposes of mind: his heart
Beats to the heroic song of ancient days;
His eye distinguishes, his soul creates.
And those illusions, which excite the scorn
Or move the pity of unthinking minds,
Are they not mainly outward ministers
Of inward conscience? with whose service charged
They came and go, appear'd and disappear,
Diverting evil purposes, remorse
Awakening, chastening an intemperate grief
Or pride of heart abating: and, whene'er
For less important ends those phantoms move
Who would forbid them, if their presence serve
Among wild mountains and unpeopled heaths,
Filling a space, else vacant, to exalt

The forms of nature, and enlarge her powers?
"Once more to distant ages of the world
Let us revert, and place before our thoughts
The face which rural solitude might wear
To th' unenlighten'd swains of pagan Greece.
In that fair clime, the lonely herdsman, stretch'd
On the soft grass through half a summer's day,
With music lull'd his indolent repose:
And in some fit of weariness, if he,
When his own breath was silent, chanced to hear
A distant strain, far sweeter than the sounds
Which his poor skill could make, his fancy fetch'd,
E'en from the blazing chariot of the sun

A beardless youth, who touch'd a golden lute,
And fill'd th' illumined groves with ravishment.

The nightly hunter, lifting up his eyes
Towards the crescent moon, with grateful heart
Call'd on the lovely wanderer who bestow'd
That timely light, to share his joyous sport:
And hence, a beaming goddess with her nymphs,
Across the lawn and through the darksome grove
(Not unaccompanied with tuneful notes

By echo multiplied from rock or cave)

Swept in the storm of chase, as moon and stars
Glance rapidly along the clouded heaven,

When winds are blowing strong. The traveller slaked

His thirst from rill or gushing fount, and thank'd
The naiad. Sunbeams, upon distant hills
Gliding apace, with shadows in their train,
Might, with small help from fancy, be transform'd
Into fleet oreads sporting visibly.

The zephyrs, fanning as they pass'd, their wings,
Lack'd not, for love, fair objects whom they woo'd
With gentle whisper. Wither'd boughs grotesque,
Stripp'd of their leaves and twigs by hoary age,
From depth of shaggy covert peeping forth
In the low vale, or on steep mountain side;
And, sometimes, intermix'd with stirring horns
Of the live deer, or goat's depending beard-
These were the lurking satyrs, a wild brood
Of gamesome deities; or Pan himself,
The simple shepherd's awe-inspiring god!"

As this apt strain proceeded, I could mark
Its kindly influence, o'er the yielding brow
Of our companion, gradually diffused
While, listening he had paced the noiseless turf,
Like one whose untired ear a murmuring stream
Detains; but tempted now to interpose,
He with a smile exclaim'd-

"Tis well you speak
At a safe distance from our native land,
And from the mansions where our youth was taught.
The true descendants of those godly men
Who swept from Scotland, in a flame of zeal,
Shrine, altar, image, and the massy piles
That harbour'd them,-the souls retaining yet
The churlish features of that after race
Who fled to caves, and woods, and naked rocks,
In deadly scorn of superstitious rites,

Or what their scruples construed to be such-
How, think you, would they tolerate this scheme
Of fine propensities, that tends, if urged
Far as it might be urged, to sow afresh
The weeds of Roman phantasy, in vain
Uprooted; would re-consecrate our wells
To good Saint Fillan and to fair Saint Anne;
And from long banishment recall Saint Giles,
To watch again with tutelary love
O'er stately Edinborough throned on crags ?
A blessed restoration, to behold

The patron, on the shoulders of his priests,
Once moie parading through her crowded streets;
Now simply guarded by the sober powers
Of science, and philosophy, and sense ""

This answer follow'd. "You have turn'd my thoughts

Upon our brave progenitors, who rose
Against idolatry with warlike mind,
And shrunk from vain observances, to lurk
In caves, and woods, and under dismal rocks,