Friend of the Wise! and Teacher of the Good!
Into my heart have I received that
More than historic, that prophetic
Wherein (high theme by thee first sung aright)Of the foundations and the building
Of a Human Spirit thou hast dared to
What may be told, to the understanding
Revealable; and what within the
By vital breathings secret as the
Of vernal growth, oft quickens in the
Thoughts all too deep for words!-- Theme hard as high!
Of smiles spontaneous, and mysterious fears(The first-born they of Reason and twin-birth),
Of tides obedient to external force,
And currents self-determined, as might seem,
Or by some inner Power; of moments awful,
Now in thy inner life, and now abroad,
When power streamed from thee, and thy soul
The light reflected, as a light bestowed--Of fancies fair, and milder hours of youth,
Hyblean murmurs of poetic
Industrious in its joy, in vales and
Native or outland, lakes and famous hills!
Or on the lonely high-road, when the
Were rising; or by secret mountain-streams,
The guides and the companions of thy way! Of more than Fancy, of the Social
Distending wide, and man beloved as man,
Where France in all her towns lay
Like some becalméd bark beneath the
Of Heaven's immediate thunder, when no
Is visible, or shadow on the main.
For thou wert there, thine own brows garlanded,
Amid the tremor of a realm aglow,
Amid the mighty nation jubilant,
When from the general heart of human
Hope sprang forth like a full-born Diety!----Of that dear Hope afflicted and struck down,
So summoned homeward, thenceforth calm and
From the dread watch-tower of man's absolute self,
With light unwaning on her eyes, to
Far on--herself a glory to behold,
The Angel of the vision!
Then (last strain)Of Duty, chosen Laws controlling choice,
Action and Joy!--An Orphic song indeed,
A song divine of high and passionate
To their own music chaunted! O great Bard!
Ere yet that last strain dying awed the air,
With stedfast eye I viewed thee in the
Of ever-enduring men.
The truly
Have all one age, and from one visible
Shed influence!
They, both in power and act,
Are permanent, and Time is not with them,
Save as it worketh for them, they in it.
Nor less a sacred Roll, than those of old,
And to be placed, as they, with gradual
Among the archives of mankind, thy
Makes audible a linkéd lay of Truth,
Of Truth profound a sweet continuous lay,
Not learnt, but native, her own natural notes!
Ah! as I listened with a heart forlorn,
The pulses of my being beat anew:
And even as Life returns upon the drowned,
Life's joy rekindling roused a throng of pains--Keen pangs of Love, awakening as a
Turbulent, with an outcry in the heart;
And Fears self-willed, that shunned the eye of Hope;
And Hope that scarce would know itself from Fear;
Sense of past Youth, and Manhood come in vain,
And Genius given, and Knowledge won in vain;
And all which I had culled in wood-walks wild,
And all which patient toil had reared, and all,
Commune with thee had opened out--but
Strewed on my corse, and borne upon my bier,
In the same coffin, for the self-same grave! That way no more! and ill beseems it me,
Who came a welcomer in herald's guise,
Singing of Glory, and Futurity,
To wander back on such unhealthful road,
Plucking the poisons of self-harm!
And
Such intertwine beseems triumphal
Strew'd before thy advancing! Nor do thou,
Sage Bard! impair the memory of that
Of thy communion with my nobler
By pity or grief, already felt too long!
Nor let my words import more blame than needs.
The tumult rose and ceased: for Peace is
Where Wisdom's voice has found a listening heart.
Amid the howl of more than wintry storms,
The Halcyon hears the voice of vernal
Already on the wing. Eve following eve,
Dear tranquil time, when the sweet sense of
Is sweetest! moments for their own sake
And more desired, more precious, for thy song,
In silence listening, like a devout child,
My soul lay passive, by thy various
Driven as in surges now beneath the stars,
With momentary stars of my own birth,
Fair constellated foam, still darting
Into the darkness; now a tranquil sea,
Outspread and bright, yet swelling to the moon. And when--O Friend ! my comforter and guide!
Strong in thyself, and powerful to give strength!--Thy long sustainéd Song finally closed,
And thy deep voice had ceased--yet thou
Wert still before my eyes, and round us
That happy vision of belovéd faces--Scarce conscious, and yet conscious of its closeI sate, my being blended in one thought(Thought was it? or aspiration? or resolve?)Absorbed, yet hanging still upon the sound--And when I rose,
I found myself in prayer.
Fair constellated foam,...: 'A beautiful white cloud of foam at momentary intervals coursed by the side of the vessel with a roar, and little stars of flame danced and sparkled and went out in it: and every now and then light detachments of this white cloud-like foam darted off from the vessel's side, each with its own small constellation, over the sea, and scoured out of sight like a Tartar troop over a wilderness.'~ The Friend, p. 220.
