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

POE¥8 or RELIGlO!f,

Fountains, and ye that warble 1 aa ye ll.GJr,

Melodious murmurs, warbling, ·tune his p~e.

JGin voice$, all ye living Souls: ye BirdJI,

That singing up to Heaveu·gate ascend,

Bear on your wings and in;our uotea his p~

Ye that in waters glide, an ye that walk

Thtt enrth, and stately tread, or lowly creep;

Witness if I be ailent:, ~!lOrn or even,

To hill or valley, fountain, 0!' fresh shade,

Made vocal by my f!Ong, and tAught his paiR.

Hail, univer&ill Lord, l:ie bounteoue etill

To give us only good; and if the night

291.

Have gather'd aught of evil or coOOMl'd,

Disperse it, &II nGw llgbt dispels the dark I

MlL'fON.

BEFORE BlililUSE Df 'l'Bli: VALE 01' OMJ(0'0'10.

HAsT thou a chtu'ln to stay the morni.llg·star
In his steep course I So long he seems to pl.use
On thy bold awful head, 0 110vru.n Blanc I
The Arve aud Arveiron at thy base
Rave ceaselessly; but thouJ most awfulfor,xn!
Risest from forth tl1 y silea t sea of pines,
How silentlrl Arouu<l thee and above
Deep is the nir and dark, substantial, black,
An ebon mass: methinks thou pierceat it,
Aa with a wedge! But when I look agai:o,
ltjs thine own calm home, thy erystalahriDe,
Thy habitatioo from eternity f
0 dread and silent MoWlt I I gued 11pon ~''
Till thou, still present to the bodily ae~.
Didst V&.Dish from my tb.ought: entnneea iD plllf8J',
I worshipp'd the Invisible alooe.

Yet, like SGme sweet beguHing melody,
So sweet, we know not we are listenin~ to it,
Tho~, the meanwhile, ws.~~t blending w1th ~y tJ!.o-Nllt,
Yea, with my life and life•s own aecr~:t joy;
Till tbe dilating Soul, enrapt, transfuseil,
Into the mighty vision pa3Blng-there,
As in her natural form, ewell'd vaat to He,!lV!'IJ I