 | Mansoul or The Riddle of the World |  |
11
The valley above, lies parted ín two heads.
In that, where led those footprints, Mansoul hoved.
My steps, compélled, in thís continued forth.
I reached ascending, soon, large cliff-crowned garth;
Which smiled embayéd all with greenness glad;
Where sliding water-brooks bubbled fróm white sand.
In that, where led those footprints, Mansoul hoved.
My steps, compélled, in thís continued forth.
I reached ascending, soon, large cliff-crowned garth;
Which smiled embayéd all with greenness glad;
Where sliding water-brooks bubbled fróm white sand.
There washed and worshipped Heaven, with lifted palms:
Discharged was óf her sometime weariness,
My mortal sense; old jarrings of blind flesh,
And souls ignoble fret; and healed those harms,
Which slay Mans rest, of sélf-consuming smart.
Discharged was óf her sometime weariness,
My mortal sense; old jarrings of blind flesh,
And souls ignoble fret; and healed those harms,
Which slay Mans rest, of sélf-consuming smart.
And having slaked thereat mine eager thirst;
I slumbered till a turtles' gentle flock,
That feared not yet Mans shape; folding from flight
Their rattling wings; lighted on vermeil feet;
Jetting, with mincing pace, their iris necks;
With crooling throat-bole; voice of peace and rest;
All round abóut me, at thát their drinking-place.
I slumbered till a turtles' gentle flock,
That feared not yet Mans shape; folding from flight
Their rattling wings; lighted on vermeil feet;
Jetting, with mincing pace, their iris necks;
With crooling throat-bole; voice of peace and rest;
All round abóut me, at thát their drinking-place.
Thence faring upward, towards that waters' source;
Which, full of sunbeams, gurgles from hid grot,
In ivy-emboweréd mossy steep above:
And sunk oft up, reneweth as oft her course;
In channels clear; surging from gilded sand:
I stayed, where pleasant grassy holms depart;
Those streaming waterbrooks, bórdered all along;
With daphne and wíllow-herb, loose-strife, laughing robin;
With woodbind garlanded and sweet eglantine,
And azure-hewed in creeky shallows still,
Forget-me-nóts lift our frail thoughts to heaven.
Which, full of sunbeams, gurgles from hid grot,
In ivy-emboweréd mossy steep above:
And sunk oft up, reneweth as oft her course;
12
I stayed, where pleasant grassy holms depart;
Those streaming waterbrooks, bórdered all along;
With daphne and wíllow-herb, loose-strife, laughing robin;
With woodbind garlanded and sweet eglantine,
And azure-hewed in creeky shallows still,
Forget-me-nóts lift our frail thoughts to heaven.
Broods o'er those thymy eyots drowsy hum;
Bourdon of glistering bees, in mails of gold.
Labouring from sweet to sweet, in the long hours
Of sunny heat; they sound their shrill small clarions.
And hurl by booming dors, gross bee-fly kin;
Broad-girdled, diverse hewed, in théir long pelts:
That solitáry, whiles eves light endúreth,
In Summer skies, each becking clover-tuft haunt.
Bourdon of glistering bees, in mails of gold.
Labouring from sweet to sweet, in the long hours
Of sunny heat; they sound their shrill small clarions.
And hurl by booming dors, gross bee-fly kin;
Broad-girdled, diverse hewed, in théir long pelts:
That solitáry, whiles eves light endúreth,
In Summer skies, each becking clover-tuft haunt.
| Mansoul or The Riddle of the World | |