IX.
A NIGHT AMID THE SEA-WARD HILLS.
1
The brow of Heaven wears
No frown, nor storm-cleft wrinkle;
The fountain's gentle tears
Amid the silence tinkle;
The lake it formeth in the meadow
Is kiss'd by many a trembling shadow
Of flower and blade;
Reflected stars, its depths amid,
Gaze heavenward as with furtive lid,
And by the moon a pyramid
Of light is made.
2
The water-fowl supine
Crowd close, with hidden bills;
The ruminating kine
Move not upon the hills;
Moths on the warm air dimly flit,
And insects in a slumb'rous fit
Stir all the leaves;
One bird, amid the hazel fluttering,
A sleepy cry of fear is uttering;
And the scarce-audible sea, low-muttering,
A dull sound weaves.
3
The fishermen's old boats,
Like shore-cast things asleep—
And nets, with shapeless floats,
Lie on the shingle deep:
Amid them, one rough sentinel
Strides as a lynx within his cell,
Still to and fro,
Tracking a smuggler's veering skiff,
In the dim distance fugitive;
The sere grass stirs upon the cliff,
With motion slow.
4
The Ocean's foamless lip
Scarce breathes upon the beach;
The Moon and Hesper clip
Its depths with amorous pleach,
Beaming their love from south and west
Over its mutely-panting breast,
In paleness splendid;
And by the gush and crisp retreat
Of its calm swell, their reflex fleet
Is curved from my advancing feet,
Or dim-extended.
5
The gather'd constellations
The infinite blue bestud,
Whose twinkling coruscations
Cleave its ethereal flood,
And yield the deep pale influence,
Dim-scrutable to striving sense,
Of shade and light:
Murmurs pervade the concave hills,
From echoed sounds and trickling rills;
And over all, the Night distils
A dew-shower bright.
6
A solitude sublime
Breathes on my breathless heart,
And thoughts of death and time
Into its depths depart:
Immortal dreams above them gushing,
My soul in all my veins is blushing
With love divine—
Spirit! from me let not this symbol'd story
Of thine immensity pass transitory;
Let me not lose of thine in-hidden glory
This outward, visible sign!
