Chapter 5

ARGUMENT.

The separation of the works of Imagination from Philosophy, the cause of their abuse among the moderns. Prospect of their reunion under the influence of public Liberty. Enumeration of accidental pleasures, which increase the effect of objects delightful to the Imagination. The pleasures of sense. Particular circumstances of the mind. Discovery of truth. Perception of contrivance and design. Emotion of the passions. All the natural passions partake of a pleasing sensation; with the final cause of this constitution illustrated by an allegorical vision, and exemplified in sorrow, pity, terror, and indignation.

When shall the laurel and the vocal string Resume their honours? When shall we behold The tuneful tongue, the Promethean band Aspire to ancient praise? Alas! how faint, How slow the dawn of Beauty and of Truth Breaks the reluctant shades of Gothic night Which yet involves the nations! Long they groan'd Beneath the furies of rapacious force; Oft as the gloomy north, with iron swarms Tempestuous pouring from her frozen caves, 10 Blasted the Italian shore, and swept the works Of Liberty and Wisdom down the gulf Of all-devouring night. As long immured In noontide darkness, by the glimmering lamp, Each Muse and each fair Science pined away The sordid hours: while foul, barbarian hands Their mysteries profaned, unstrung the lyre, And chain'd the soaring pinion down to earth. At last the Muses rose, [Endnote L] and spurn'd their bonds, And, wildly warbling, scatter'd as they flew, 20 Their blooming wreaths from fair Valclusa's [Endnote M] bowers To Arno's [Endnote N] myrtle border and the shore Of soft Parthenope. [Endnote O] But still the rage Of dire ambition [Endnote P] and gigantic power, From public aims and from the busy walk Of civil commerce, drove the bolder train Of penetrating Science to the cells, Where studious Ease consumes the silent hour In shadowy searches and unfruitful care. Thus from their guardians torn, the tender arts [Endnote Q] 30 Of mimic fancy and harmonious joy, To priestly domination and the lust Of lawless courts, their amiable toil For three inglorious ages have resign'd, In vain reluctant: and Torquato's tongue Was tuned for slavish pasans at the throne Of tinsel pomp: and Raphael's magic hand Effused its fair creation to enchant The fond adoring herd in Latian fanes To blind belief; while on their prostrate necks 40 The sable tyrant plants his heel secure. But now, behold! the radiant era dawns, When freedom's ample fabric, fix'd at length For endless years on Albion's happy shore In full proportion, once more shall extend To all the kindred powers of social bliss A common mansion, a parental roof. There shall the Virtues, there shall Wisdom's train, Their long-lost friends rejoining, as of old, Embrace the smiling family of Arts, 50 The Muses and the Graces. Then no more Shall Vice, distracting their delicious gifts To aims abhorr'd, with high distaste and scorn Turn from their charms the philosophic eye, The patriot bosom; then no more the paths Of public care or intellectual toil, Alone by footsteps haughty and severe In gloomy state be trod: the harmonious Muse And her persuasive sisters then shall plant Their sheltering laurels o'er the bleak ascent, 60 And scatter flowers along the rugged way. Arm'd with the lyre, already have we dared To pierce divine Philosophy's retreats, And teach the Muse her lore; already strove Their long-divided honours to unite, While tempering this deep argument we sang Of Truth and Beauty. Now the same glad task Impends; now urging our ambitious toil, We hasten to recount the various springs Of adventitious pleasure, which adjoin 70 Their grateful influence to the prime effect Of objects grand or beauteous, and enlarge The complicated joy. The sweets of sense, Do they not oft with kind accession flow, To raise harmonious Fancy's native charm? So while we taste the fragrance of the rose, Glows not her blush the fairer? While we view Amid the noontide walk a limpid rill Gush through the trickling herbage, to the thirst Of summer yielding the delicious draught 80 Of cool refreshment, o'er the mossy brink Shines not the surface clearer, and the waves With sweeter music murmur as they flow?

Nor this alone; the various lot of life Oft from external circumstance assumes A moment's disposition to rejoice In those delights which, at a different hour, Would pass unheeded. Fair the face of Spring, When rural songs and odours wake the morn, To every eye; but how much more to his 90 Round whom the bed of sickness long diffused Its melancholy gloom! how doubly fair, When first with fresh-born vigour he inhales The balmy breeze, and feels the blessed sun Warm at his bosom, from the springs of life Chasing oppressive damps and languid pain!

Or shall I mention, where celestial Truth Her awful light discloses, to bestow A more majestic pomp on Beauty's frame? For man loves knowledge, and the beams of Truth 100 More welcome touch his understanding's eye, Than all the blandishments of sound his ear, Than all of taste his tongue. Nor ever yet The melting rainbow's vernal-tinctured hues To me have shown so pleasing, as when first The hand of Science pointed out the path In which the sunbeams, gleaming from the west, Fall on the watery cloud, whose darksome veil Involves the orient; and that trickling shower Piercing through every crystalline convex 110 Of clustering dewdrops to their flight opposed, Recoil at length where concave all behind The internal surface of each glassy orb Repels their forward passage into air; That thence direct they seek the radiant goal From which their course began; and, as they strike In different lines the gazer's obvious eye, Assume a different lustre, through the brede Of colours changing from the splendid rose To the pale violet's dejected hue. 120

Or shall we touch that kind access of joy, That springs to each fair object, while we trace, Through all its fabric, Wisdom's artful aim, Disposing every part, and gaining still, By means proportion'd, her benignant end? Speak ye, the pure delight, whose favour'd steps The lamp of Science through the jealous maze Of Nature guides, when haply you reveal Her secret honours: whether in the sky, The beauteous laws of light, the central powers 130 That wheel the pensile planets round the year; Whether in wonders of the rolling deep, Or the rich fruits of all-sustaining earth, Or fine-adjusted springs of life and sense, Ye scan the counsels of their Author's hand.

What, when to raise the meditated scene, The flame of passion, through the struggling soul Deep-kindled, shows across that sudden blaze The object of its rapture, vast of size, With fiercer colours and a night of shade? 140 What, like a storm from their capacious bed The sounding seas o'erwhelming, when the might Of these eruptions, working from the depth Of man's strong apprehension, shakes his frame Even to the base; from every naked sense Of pain or pleasure, dissipating all Opinion's feeble coverings, and the veil Spun from the cobweb fashion of the times To hide the feeling heart? Then Nature speaks Her genuine language, and the words of men, 150 Big with the very motion of their souls, Declare with what accumulated force The impetuous nerve of passion urges on The native weight and energy of things.

Yet more: her honours where nor Beauty claims, Nor shows of good the thirsty sense allure, From passion's power alone [Endnote R] our nature holds Essential pleasure. Passion's fierce illapse Rouses the mind's whole fabric; with supplies Of daily impulse keeps the elastic powers 160 Intensely poised, and polishes anew By that collision all the fine machine: Else rust would rise, and foulness, by degrees Encumbering, choke at last what heaven design'd For ceaseless motion and a round of toil.-- But say, does every passion thus to man Administer delight? That name indeed Becomes the rosy breath of love; becomes The radiant smiles of joy, the applauding hand Of admiration: but the bitter shower 170 That sorrow sheds upon a brother's grave; But the dumb palsy of nocturnal fear, Or those consuming fires that gnaw the heart Of panting indignation, find we there To move delight?--Then listen while my tongue The unalter'd will of Heaven with faithful awe Reveals; what old Harmodius wont to teach My early age; Harmodius, who had weigh'd Within his learned mind whate'er the schools Of Wisdom, or thy lonely-whispering voice, 180 O faithful Nature! dictate of the laws Which govern and support this mighty frame Of universal being. Oft the hours From morn to eve have stolen unmark'd away, While mute attention hung upon his lips, As thus the sage his awful tale began:--

''Twas in the windings of an ancient wood, When spotless youth with solitude resigns To sweet philosophy the studious day, What time pale Autumn shades the silent eve, 190 Musing I roved. Of good and evil much, And much of mortal man my thought revolved; When starting full on fancy's gushing eye The mournful image of Parthenia's fate, That hour, O long beloved and long deplored! When blooming youth, nor gentlest wisdom's arts, Nor Hymen's honours gather'd for thy brow, Nor all thy lover's, all thy father's tears Avail'd to snatch thee from the cruel grave; Thy agonising looks, thy last farewell 200 Struck to the inmost feeling of my soul As with the hand of Death. At once the shade More horrid nodded o'er me, and the winds With hoarser murmuring shook the branches. Dark As midnight storms, the scene of human things Appear'd before me; deserts, burning sands, Where the parch'd adder dies; the frozen south, And desolation blasting all the west With rapine and with murder: tyrant power Here sits enthroned with blood; the baleful charms 210 Of superstition there infect the skies, And turn the sun to horror. Gracious Heaven! What is the life of man? Or cannot these, Not these portents thy awful will suffice, That, propagated thus beyond their scope, They rise to act their cruelties anew In my afflicted bosom, thus decreed The universal sensitive of pain, The wretched heir of evils not its own?'

Thus I impatient: when, at once effused, 220 A flashing torrent of celestial day Burst through the shadowy void. With slow descent A purple cloud came floating through the sky, And, poised at length within the circling trees, Hung obvious to my view; till opening wide Its lucid orb, a more than human form Emerging lean'd majestic o'er my head, And instant thunder shook the conscious grove. Then melted into air the liquid cloud, And all the shining vision stood reveal'd. 230 A wreath of palm his ample forehead bound, And o'er his shoulder, mantling to his knee, Flow'd the transparent robe, around his waist Collected with a radiant zone of gold Aethereal: there in mystic signs engraved, I read his office high and sacred name, Genius of human kind! Appall'd I gazed The godlike presence; for athwart his brow Displeasure, temper'd with a mild concern, Look'd down reluctant on me, and his words 240 Like distant thunders broke the murmuring air:

'Vain are thy thoughts, O child of mortal birth! And impotent thy tongue. Is thy short span Capacious of this universal frame?-- Thy wisdom all-sufficient? Thou, alas! Dost thou aspire to judge between the Lord Of Nature and his works--to lift thy voice Against the sovereign order he decreed, All good and lovely--to blaspheme the bands Of tenderness innate and social love, 250 Holiest of things! by which the general orb Of being, as by adamantine links, Was drawn to perfect union, and sustain'd From everlasting? Hast thou felt the pangs Of softening sorrow, of indignant zeal, So grievous to the soul, as thence to wish The ties of Nature broken from thy frame, That so thy selfish, unrelenting heart Might cease to mourn its lot, no longer then The wretched heir of evils not its own? 260 O fair benevolence of generous minds! O man by Nature form'd for all mankind!'

He spoke; abash'd and silent I remain'd, As conscious of my tongue's offence, and awed Before his presence, though my secret soul Disdain'd the imputation. On the ground I fix'd my eyes, till from his airy couch He stoop'd sublime, and touching with his hand My dazzling forehead, 'Raise thy sight,' he cried, 'And let thy sense convince thy erring tongue.' 270

I look'd, and lo! the former scene was changed; For verdant alleys and surrounding trees, A solitary prospect, wide and wild, Rush'd on my senses. 'Twas a horrid pile Of hills with many a shaggy forest mix'd, With many a sable cliff and glittering stream. Aloft, recumbent o'er the hanging ridge, The brown woods waved; while ever-trickling springs Wash'd from the naked roots of oak and pine The crumbling soil; and still at every fall 280 Down the steep windings of the channel'd rock, Remurmuring rush'd the congregated floods With hoarser inundation; till at last They reach'd a grassy plain, which from the skirts Of that high desert spread her verdant lap, And drank the gushing moisture, where confined In one smooth current, o'er the lilied vale Clearer than glass it flow'd. Autumnal spoils Luxuriant spreading to the rays of morn, Blush'd o'er the cliffs, whose half-encircling mound 290 As in a sylvan theatre enclosed That flowery level. On the river's brink I spied a fair pavilion, which diffused Its floating umbrage 'mid the silver shade Of osiers. Now the western sun reveal'd Between two parting cliffs his golden orb, And pour'd across the shadow of the hills, On rocks and floods, a yellow stream of light That cheer'd the solemn scene. My listening powers Were awed, and every thought in silence hung, 300 And wondering expectation. Then the voice Of that celestial power, the mystic show Declaring, thus my deep attention call'd:--

'Inhabitant of earth, [Endnote S] to whom is given The gracious ways of Providence to learn, Receive my sayings with a steadfast ear-- Know then, the Sovereign Spirit of the world, Though, self-collected from eternal time, Within his own deep essence he beheld The bounds of true felicity complete, 310 Yet by immense benignity inclined To spread around him that primeval joy Which fill'd himself, he raised his plastic arm, And sounded through the hollow depths of space The strong, creative mandate. Straight arose These heavenly orbs, the glad abodes of life, Effusive kindled by his breath divine Through endless forms of being. Each inhaled From him its portion of the vital flame, In measure such, that, from the wide complex 320 Of coexistent orders, one might rise, One order, [Endnote T] all-involving and entire. He too, beholding in the sacred light Of his essential reason, all the shapes Of swift contingence, all successive ties Of action propagated through the sum Of possible existence, he at once, Down the long series of eventful time, So fix'd the dates of being, so disposed, To every living soul of every kind 330 The field of motion and the hour of rest, That all conspired to his supreme design, To universal good: with full accord Answering the mighty model he had chose, The best and fairest [Endnote U] of unnumber'd worlds That lay from everlasting in the store Of his divine conceptions. Nor content, By one exertion of creative power His goodness to reveal; through every age, Through every moment up the tract of time, 340 His parent hand with ever new increase Of happiness and virtue has adorn'd The vast harmonious frame: his parent hand, From the mute shell-fish gasping on the shore, To men, to angels, to celestial minds, For ever leads the generations on To higher scenes of being; while, supplied From day to day with his enlivening breath, Inferior orders in succession rise To fill the void below. As flame ascends, [Endnote V] 350 As bodies to their proper centre move, As the poised ocean to the attracting moon Obedient swells, and every headlong stream Devolves its winding waters to the main; So all things which have life aspire to God, The sun of being, boundless, unimpair'd, Centre of souls! Nor does the faithful voice Of Nature cease to prompt their eager steps Aright; nor is the care of Heaven withheld From granting to the task proportion'd aid; 360 That in their stations all may persevere To climb the ascent of being, and approach For ever nearer to the life divine.--

'That rocky pile thou seest, that verdant lawn Fresh-water'd from the mountains. Let the scene Paint in thy fancy the primeval seat Of man, and where the Will Supreme ordain'd His mansion, that pavilion fair-diffused Along the shady brink; in this recess To wear the appointed season of his youth, 370 Till riper hours should open to his toil The high communion of superior minds, Of consecrated heroes and of gods. Nor did the Sire Omnipotent forget His tender bloom to cherish; nor withheld Celestial footsteps from his green abode. Oft from the radiant honours of his throne, He sent whom most he loved, the sovereign fair, The effluence of his glory, whom he placed Before his eyes for ever to behold; 380 The goddess from whose inspiration flows The toil of patriots, the delight of friends; Without whose work divine, in heaven or earth, Nought lovely, nought propitious, conies to pass, Nor hope, nor praise, nor honour. Her the Sire Gave it in charge to rear the blooming mind, The folded powers to open, to direct The growth luxuriant of his young desires, And from the laws of this majestic world To teach him what was good. As thus the nymph 390 Her daily care attended, by her side With constant steps her gay companion stay'd, The fair Euphrosyne, the gentle queen Of smiles, and graceful gladness, and delights That cheer alike the hearts of mortal men And powers immortal. See the shining pair! Behold, where from his dwelling now disclosed They quit their youthful charge and seek the skies.'

I look'd, and on the flowery turf there stood Between two radiant forms a smiling youth 400 Whose tender cheeks display'd the vernal flower Of beauty: sweetest innocence illumed His bashful eyes, and on his polish'd brow Sate young simplicity. With fond regard He view'd the associates, as their steps they moved; The younger chief his ardent eyes detain'd, With mild regret invoking her return. Bright as the star of evening she appear'd Amid the dusky scene. Eternal youth O'er all her form its glowing honours breathed; 410 And smiles eternal from her candid eyes Flow'd, like the dewy lustre of the morn Effusive trembling on the placid waves. The spring of heaven had shed its blushing spoils To bind her sable tresses: full diffused Her yellow mantle floated in the breeze; And in her hand she waved a living branch Rich with immortal fruits, of power to calm The wrathful heart, and from the brightening eyes To chase the cloud of sadness. More sublime 420 The heavenly partner moved. The prime of age Composed her steps. The presence of a god, High on the circle of her brow enthroned, From each majestic motion darted awe, Devoted awe! till, cherish'd by her looks Benevolent and meek, confiding love To filial rapture soften'd all the soul. Free in her graceful hand she poised the sword Of chaste dominion. An heroic crown Display'd the old simplicity of pomp 430 Around her honour'd head. A matron's robe, White as the sunshine streams through vernal clouds, Her stately form invested. Hand in hand The immortal pair forsook the enamel'd green, Ascending slowly. Rays of limpid light Gleam'd round their path; celestial sounds were heard, And through the fragrant air ethereal dews Distill'd around them; till at once the clouds, Disparting wide in midway sky, withdrew Their airy veil, and left a bright expanse 440 Of empyrean flame, where, spent and drown'd, Afflicted vision plunged in vain to scan What object it involved. My feeble eyes Endured not. Bending down to earth I stood, With dumb attention. Soon a female voice, As watery murmurs sweet, or warbling shades, With sacred invocation thus began:

'Father of gods and mortals! whose right arm With reins eternal guides the moving heavens, Bend thy propitious ear. Behold well pleased 450 I seek to finish thy divine decree. With frequent steps I visit yonder seat Of man, thy offspring; from the tender seeds Of justice and of wisdom, to evolve The latent honours of his generous frame; Till thy conducting hand shall raise his lot From earth's dim scene to these ethereal walks, The temple of thy glory. But not me, Not my directing voice he oft requires, Or hears delighted: this enchanting maid, 460 The associate thou hast given me, her alone He loves, O Father! absent, her he craves; And but for her glad presence ever join'd, Rejoices not in mine: that all my hopes This thy benignant purpose to fulfil, I deem uncertain: and my daily cares Unfruitful all and vain, unless by thee Still further aided in the work divine.'

She ceased; a voice more awful thus replied:-- 'O thou, in whom for ever I delight, 470 Fairer than all the inhabitants of Heaven, Best image of thy Author! far from thee Be disappointment, or distaste, or blame; Who soon or late shalt every work fulfil, And no resistance find. If man refuse To hearken to thy dictates; or, allured By meaner joys, to any other power Transfer the honours due to thee alone; That joy which he pursues he ne'er shall taste, That power in whom delighteth ne'er behold. 480 Go then, once more, and happy be thy toil; Go then! but let not this thy smiling friend Partake thy footsteps. In her stead, behold! With thee the son of Nemesis I send; The fiend abhorr'd! whose vengeance takes account Of sacred order's violated laws. See where he calls thee, burning to be gone, Pierce to exhaust the tempest of his wrath On yon devoted head. But thou, my child, Control his cruel frenzy, and protect 490 Thy tender charge; that when despair shall grasp His agonising bosom, he may learn, Then he may learn to love the gracious hand Alone sufficient in the hour of ill, To save his feeble spirit; then confess Thy genuine honours, O excelling fair! When all the plagues that wait the deadly will Of this avenging demon, all the storms Of night infernal, serve but to display The energy of thy superior charms 500 With mildest awe triumphant o'er his rage, And shining clearer in the horrid gloom.'

Here ceased that awful voice, and soon I felt The cloudy curtain of refreshing eve Was closed once more, from that immortal fire Sheltering my eyelids. Looking up, I view'd A vast gigantic spectre striding on Through murmuring thunders and a waste of clouds, With dreadful action. Black as night his brow Relentless frowns involved. His savage limbs 510 With sharp impatience violent he writhed, As through convulsive anguish; and his hand, Arm'd with a scorpion lash, full oft he raised In madness to his bosom; while his eyes Rain'd bitter tears, and bellowing loud he shook The void with horror. Silent by his side The virgin came. No discomposure stirr'd Her features. From the glooms which hung around, No stain of darkness mingled with the beam Of her divine effulgence. Now they stoop 520 Upon the river bank; and now to hail His wonted guests, with eager steps advanced The unsuspecting inmate of the shade.

As when a famish'd wolf, that all night long Had ranged the Alpine snows, by chance at morn Sees from a cliff, incumbent o'er the smoke Of some lone village, a neglected kid That strays along the wild for herb or spring; Down from the winding ridge he sweeps amain, And thinks he tears him: so with tenfold rage, 530 The monster sprung remorseless on his prey. Amazed the stripling stood: with panting breast Feebly he pour'd the lamentable wail Of helpless consternation, struck at once, And rooted to the ground. The Queen beheld His terror, and with looks of tenderest care Advanced to save him. Soon the tyrant felt Her awful power. His keen tempestuous arm Hung nerveless, nor descended where his rage Had aim'd the deadly blow: then dumb retired 540 With sullen rancour. Lo! the sovereign maid Folds with a mother's arms the fainting boy, Till life rekindles in his rosy cheek; Then grasps his hands, and cheers him with her tongue:--

'Oh, wake thee, rouse thy spirit! Shall the spite Of yon tormentor thus appal thy heart, While I, thy friend and guardian, am at hand To rescue and to heal? Oh, let thy soul Remember, what the will of heaven ordains Is ever good for all; and if for all, 550 Then good for thee. Nor only by the warmth And soothing sunshine of delightful things, Do minds grow up and flourish. Oft misled By that bland light, the young unpractised views Of reason wander through a fatal road, Far from their native aim; as if to lie Inglorious in the fragrant shade, and wait The soft access of ever circling joys, Were all the end of being. Ask thyself, This pleasing error did it never lull 560 Thy wishes? Has thy constant heart refused The silken fetters of delicious ease? Or when divine Euphrosyne appear'd Within this dwelling, did not thy desires Hang far below the measure of thy fate, Which I reveal'd before thee, and thy eyes, Impatient of my counsels, turn away To drink the soft effusion of her smiles? Know then, for this the everlasting Sire Deprives thee of her presence, and instead, 570 O wise and still benevolent! ordains This horrid visage hither to pursue My steps; that so thy nature may discern Its real good, and what alone can save Thy feeble spirit in this hour of ill From folly and despair. O yet beloved! Let not this headlong terror quite o'erwhelm Thy scatter'd powers; nor fatal deem the rage Of this tormentor, nor his proud assault, While I am here to vindicate thy toil, 580 Above the generous question of thy arm. Brave by thy fears and in thy weakness strong, This hour he triumphs: but confront his might, And dare him to the combat, then with ease Disarm'd and quell'd, his fierceness he resigns To bondage and to scorn: while thus inured By watchful danger, by unceasing toil, The immortal mind, superior to his fate, Amid the outrage of external things, Firm as the solid base of this great world, 590 Rests on his own foundations. Blow, ye winds! Ye waves! ye thunders! roll your tempest on; Shake, ye old pillars of the marble sky! Till all its orbs and all its worlds of fire Be loosen'd from their seats; yet still serene, The unconquer'd mind looks down upon the wreck; And ever stronger as the storms advance, Firm through the closing ruin holds his way, Where Nature calls him to the destined goal.'

So spake the goddess; while through all her frame 600 Celestial raptures flow'd, in every word, In every motion kindling warmth divine To seize who listen'd. Vehement and swift As lightning fires the aromatic shade In Aethiopian fields, the stripling felt Her inspiration catch his fervid soul, And starting from his languor thus exclaim'd:--

'Then let the trial come! and witness thou, If terror be upon me; if I shrink To meet the storm, or falter in my strength 610 When hardest it besets me. Do not think That I am fearful and infirm of soul, As late thy eyes beheld: for thou hast changed My nature; thy commanding voice has waked My languid powers to bear me boldly on, Where'er the will divine my path ordains Through toil or peril: only do not thou Forsake me; Oh, be thou for ever near, That I may listen to thy sacred voice, And guide by thy decrees my constant feet. 620 But say, for ever are my eyes bereft? Say, shall the fair Euphrosyne not once Appear again to charm me? Thou, in heaven! O thou eternal arbiter of things! Be thy great bidding done: for who am I, To question thy appointment? Let the frowns Of this avenger every morn o'ercast The cheerful dawn, and every evening damp With double night my dwelling; I will learn To hail them both, and unrepining bear 630 His hateful presence: but permit my tongue One glad request, and if my deeds may find Thy awful eye propitious, oh! restore The rosy-featured maid; again to cheer This lonely seat, and bless me with her smiles.'

He spoke; when instant through the sable glooms With which that furious presence had involved The ambient air, a flood of radiance came Swift as the lightning flash; the melting clouds Flew diverse, and amid the blue serene 640 Euphrosyne appear'd. With sprightly step The nymph alighted on the irriguous lawn, And to her wondering audience thus began:--

'Lo! I am here to answer to your vows, And be the meeting fortunate! I come With joyful tidings; we shall part no more-- Hark! how the gentle echo from her cell Talks through the cliffs, and murmuring o'er the stream Repeats the accents; we shall part no more.-- O my delightful friends! well pleased on high 650 The Father has beheld you, while the might Of that stern foe with bitter trial proved Your equal doings: then for ever spake The high decree, that thou, celestial maid! Howe'er that grisly phantom on thy steps May sometimes dare intrude, yet never more Shalt thou, descending to the abode of man, Alone endure the rancour of his arm, Or leave thy loved Euphrosyne behind.'

She ended, and the whole romantic scene 660 Immediate vanish'd; rocks, and woods, and rills, The mantling tent, and each mysterious form Flew like the pictures of a morning dream, When sunshine fills the bed. Awhile I stood Perplex'd and giddy; till the radiant power Who bade the visionary landscape rise, As up to him I turn'd, with gentlest looks Preventing my inquiry, thus began:--

'There let thy soul acknowledge its complaint How blind, how impious! There behold the ways 670 Of Heaven's eternal destiny to man, For ever just, benevolent, and wise: That Virtue's awful steps, howe'er pursued By vexing fortune and intrusive pain, Should never be divided from her chaste, Her fair attendant, Pleasure. Need I urge Thy tardy thought through all the various round Of this existence, that thy softening soul At length may learn what energy the hand Of virtue mingles in the bitter tide 680 Of passion swelling with distress and pain, To mitigate the sharp with gracious drops Of cordial pleasure? Ask the faithful youth, Why the cold urn of her whom long he loved So often fills his arms; so often draws His lonely footsteps at the silent hour, To pay the mournful tribute of his tears? Oh! he will tell thee, that the wealth of worlds Should ne'er seduce his bosom to forego That sacred hour, when, stealing from the noise 690 Of care and envy, sweet remembrance soothes With virtue's kindest looks his aching breast, And turns his tears to rapture.--Ask the crowd Which flies impatient from the village walk To climb the neighbouring cliffs, when far below The cruel winds have hurl'd upon the coast Some helpless bark; while sacred Pity melts The general eye, or Terror's icy hand Smites their distorted limbs and horrent hair; While every mother closer to her breast 700 Catches her child, and pointing where the waves Foam through the shatter'd vessel, shrieks aloud As one poor wretch that spreads his piteous arms For succour, swallow'd by the roaring surge, As now another, dash'd against the rock, Drops lifeless down: Oh! deemest thou indeed No kind endearment here by Nature given To mutual terror and compassion's tears? No sweetly melting softness which attracts, O'er all that edge of pain, the social powers 710 To this their proper action and their end?-- Ask thy own heart, when, at the midnight hour, Slow through that studious gloom thy pausing eye, Led by the glimmering taper, moves around The sacred volumes of the dead, the songs Of Grecian bards, and records writ by Fame For Grecian heroes, where the present power Of heaven and earth surveys the immortal page, Even as a father blessing, while he reads The praises of his son. If then thy soul, 720 Spurning the yoke of these inglorious days, Mix in their deeds, and kindle with their flame, Say, when the prospect blackens on thy view, When, rooted from the base, heroic states Mourn in the dust, and tremble at the frown Of cursed ambition; when the pious band Of youths who fought for freedom and their sires, Lie side by side in gore; when ruffian pride Usurps the throne of Justice, turns the pomp Of public power, the majesty of rule, 730 The sword, the laurel, and the purple robe, To slavish empty pageants, to adorn A tyrant's walk, and glitter in the eyes Of such as bow the knee; when honour'd urns Of patriots and of chiefs, the awful bust And storied arch, to glut the coward rage Of regal envy, strew the public way With hallow'd ruins; when the Muse's haunt, The marble porch where Wisdom wont to talk With Socrates or Tully, hears no more, 740 Save the hoarse jargon of contentious monks, Or female Superstition's midnight prayer; When ruthless Rapine from the hand of Time Tears the destroying scythe, with surer blow To sweep the works of glory from their base; Till Desolation o'er the grass-grown street Expands his raven wings, and up the wall, Where senates once the price of monarchs doom'd, Hisses the gliding snake through hoary weeds That clasp the mouldering column; thus defaced, 750 Thus widely mournful when the prospect thrills Thy beating bosom, when the patriot's tear Starts from thine eye, and thy extended arm In fancy hurls the thunderbolt of Jove To fire the impious wreath on Philip's [Endnote W] brow, Or dash Octavius from the trophied car; Say, does thy secret soul repine to taste The big distress? Or wouldst thou then exchange Those heart-ennobling sorrows for the lot Of him who sits amid the gaudy herd 760 Of mute barbarians bending to his nod, And bears aloft his gold-invested front, And says within himself, I am a king, And wherefore should the clamorous voice of woe Intrude upon mine ear?--The baleful dregs Of these late ages, this inglorious draught Of servitude and folly, have not yet, Bless'd be the eternal Ruler of the world! Defiled to such a depth of sordid shame The native honours of the human soul, 770 Nor so effaced the image of its Sire.'