CXXII.

H, wast thou with me, dearest, then,
While I rose up against my doom,

And yearn'd to burst the folded gloom,

To bare the eternal Heavens again,

To feel once more, in placid awe,
The strong imagination roll

A sphere of stars about my soul,
In all her motion one with law;

If thou wert with me, and the grave
Divide us not, be with me now,

And enter in at breast and brow,

Till all my blood, a fuller wave,

Be quicken'd with a livelier breath,

And like an inconsiderate boy,

As in the former flash of joy,
I slip the thoughts of life and death;

And all the breeze of Fancy blows,

And every dew-drop paints a bow,

The wizard lightnings deeply glow, And every thought breaks out a rose.

CXXIII.

HERE rolls the deep where grew the

tree.

O earth, what changes hast thou seen! There where the long street roars, hath been The stillness of the central sea.

The hills are shadows, and they flow

From form to form, and nothing stands; They melt like mist, the solid lands, Like clouds they shape themselves and go.

But in my spirit will I dwell,

And dream my dream, and hold it true,

For tho' my lips may breathe adieu,

I cannot think the thing farewell.

CXXIV.

HAT which we dare invoke to bless;
Our dearest faith; our ghastliest

doubt;

He, They, One, All; within, without; The Power in darkness whom we guess;

I found Him not in world or sun,

Or eagle's wing, or insect's eye;
Nor thro' the questions men may try,

The petty cobwebs we have spun:

If e'er when faith had fall'n asleep,
I heard a voice "believe no more
And heard an ever-breaking shore
That tumbled in the Godless deep;

A warmth within the breast would melt

The freezing reason's colder part,

And like a man in wrath the heart

Stood up and answer'd "I have felt."

No, like a child in doubt and fear:

But that blind clamour made me wise;

Then was I as a child that cries,

But, crying, knows his father near;

And what I am beheld again

What is, and no man understands;

And out of darkness came the hands

That reach thro' nature, moulding men.