A book of English poetry; ed. by T. Shorter

1M roDS OJ' B.ULJ:C1'10!1 .UD IS'DTDilDfT•

A OJUD without a p~, void, dark, and drear,

A stifted,.drow6Y, UUlDlputlion'd gl'icf,

Which finds no natural outlet, no relief,

In word, or sigh, or tear--

0 lAdy I ~ thia wan and heartleu mood,

To other tholl!!.hts by yonder throatle woo'd,

AU thia long eve, so balmy and serene,

Have I been gazing on the western aky,

And ite peeulia.r tint of yellow green :

And still I gaze-and with how blank an eye I

And tboee thin clouds above, in flakes and bars,

That give away their motion to the etara;

Thoee alan, that glide behind them or between,

Now sparkling, now bedimm'dt b.~t &lwaye seen:

Yon ereacent M oon ae fix'd ae 1f 1t gt"ew

In ita own cloudleu, etarleaa lake of blue ;

I eee them &11 so excellently fair,

I aee, not feel how beautiful they are 1

My genial spirits fail ;

And what ea.n these avail

To lift the smothering weight !rom off my breast 1

It were a vain endeavour,

Though I should gaze for ever

On that green light thAt lingers in the west:

I may not hope from outward forme to win

The passion and the li!e, whoee fount&i.na &re within.

0 Lady I we receive but wh&t we ~ve,

And in our life alone does nature liYe:

Ours ia her wedding-garment, ours her shroud l

And would we aught behold, of higher worth,

Than that inanimate cold world allow'd

To the poor loveless, evel'-&nxioua crowd,

Ah I from the aoul iteelf mullt iaaue forth,

A light, a glory, a il\ir luminoua cloud

Enveloping the Earth-

And from the soul itllelf must there be sent

A sweet &nd potent voice, o r its own birth,

Of all sweet sounds the life and elemeut I