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Till through the sinking ocean, mountains pierced,
And then came forth the land whereon we dwell.
reared like a magic fane above the watery swell.
Thou lookest on the earth, and then it smiles;
Thy light is hid. and all things droop and mourn;
Laughs the wide sea around her budding isles,
When through their heaven thychanging car is borne;
Thou wheel'st away thy night, the woods are shorn
Of all their waving locks, and storms awake;
All, that was once so beautiful, is torn
By the wild winds which plough the
lonely lake, And in their maddening rush, the
crested mountains shake.
The earth lies buried in a shroud of snow;
Life lingers, and would die, but thy return
Gives to their gladdened hearts an overflow
Of all the power that brooded in the urn
Of their chilled frames, and then
they proudly spurn All bands that would confine, and
give to air Hues, fragrance, shapes of beauty,
till they burn. When on a dewy morn thou dartest
Kich waves of gold to wreathe with fairer light the fair.
Thine are the mountains, where they
purely lift Snows that have never wasted, in a
Which hath no stain; below, the
storm may drift Its darkness, and the thunder-gust
Aloft in thy eternal smile they lie Dazzling but cold; thy farewell glance
looks there, And when below thy hues of beauty
Girt round them as a rosy belt, they bear
Into the high dark vault a brow that still is fair.
The clouds are thine, and all their
magic hues Are pencilled by thee; when thou
bendest low, Or comest in thy strength, thy hand
Their waving fold with such a perfect glow
Of all pure tints, the fairy pictures throw
Shame on the proudest art; the tender stain
Hung round the verge of Heaven,
that as a bow Girds the wide world, and in their
blended chain All tints to the deep gold, that flashes
in thy train.
These are thy trophies, and thou
bend'st thy arch, The sign of triumph, in a seven-fold
Where the spent storm is hasting on
its march; And there the glories of thy light
And form with perfect curve a lifted line,
Striding the earth and air; — man
looks and tells How peace and mercy in its beauty
And how the heavenly messenger impels
Her glad wings on the path, that thus in ether swells.
The ocean is thy vassal; thou dost sway
His waves to thy dominion, and they g.
Where thou in Heaven dost guide them on their way,