From Chance, and Death, and Mutability, Id. 111. 4. THE SONG OF TRIUMPH.F The Earth. Ha! ha! the animation of delight Which wraps me, like an atmosphere of light, And bears me as a cloud is borne by its own wind. The Moon. Brother mine, calm wanderer, Happy globe of land and air, Which penetrates my frozen frame, And passes with the warmth of flame, Through me, through me! The Earth. Ha! ha! the caverns of my hollow mountains, * Whatever may be thought of the expediency or Utopianism, there car be but one opinion, it may be presumed, as to the melody and sweetness of the language, and the lofty faith of this dream of an Astræa Redux, and a Golden Age to be. + The Hallelujah Chorus,' as it may be termed, celebrating in jubilant and ecstatic song the completed Redemption. Laugh with a vast and inextinguishable laughter : The oceans, and the deserts, and the abysses, And the deep air's unmeasured wildernesses, Answer from all their clouds and billows, echoing after. The Moon. The shadow of white death has past From my path in heaven at last, And through my newly-woven bowers, Wander happy paramours, Thy vales more deep. The Earth. As the dissolving warmth of dawn may fold A half unfrozen 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 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 muy enchanted sleep; As a youth lull'd in love-dreams faintly sighing, Under the shadow of his beauty lying, Which round his rest a watch of light and warmth doth keep The Moon. As in the soft and sweet eclipse, When soul meets soul on lovers' lips, High hearts are calm, and brightest eyes are dull ; So, when thy shadow falls on me, Then am I mute and still, by thee Full, oh, too full ! Like a Mænad, round the cup Gazes on the azure sky As a grey and watery mist Glows like solid amethyst When the sunset sleeps Upon its snow. а Id. iv. THE ELEGY OF ELEGIES. а I WEEP for ADONAIS— he is dead! Forget the Past, his fame and fate shall be Where wert thou, mighty Mother, when he lay, With which, like flowers that mock the corse beneath, He had adorn’d and hid the coming bulk of death. Oh, weep for Adonais-he is dead! Will yet restore him to the vital air! Most musical of mourners, weep again! Into the gulf of death ; but his clear sprite Most musical of mourners, weep anew ? FF |