University of Virginia Library

The Sea, the Sky, the Air, the Mountains, grow
Each moment still more glorious; Earth below,
And Heaven above, deep dyes triumphal wear,
Intense and burning in their brightness rare!
That dazzles in the Soul—the o'erwhelming blaze,
Fools the strained sense, and gathers on the gaze
In full and fast increase, until the eye
Feels 'wildered in the maze of radiancy,
And knows not where to fix nor where to turn,
Nor half the light of glory can discern,
Nor to the depths of Beauty pierce, through all
The kindling splendours of that dazzling pall!
I dream—I surely dream!—it cannot be
Such pompous vision is reality!—
Is this the Earth where oft dull shadows spread?
And breadths of frowning gloom profound and dread!
'Tis paved as 'twere with glass and beaten gold,
A miracle and mystery to behold!
Is this the air where floating vapours rise,
And veil the orient triumph of the skies?
Though in this Land of Loveliness, not oft
May these upon their wings a darkness waft,
As in less favoured climes where shines the Sun
With feebler ray Creation's scenes upon.
How doth it kindle with transparent glow,
As 'twere indeed a Heaven around us now!
Almost we think to see the flashing wings,
The out-blazing crowns, the harps of golden strings,
The dwellers of the fair celestial sphere,
Amidst the glory at its height appear!

The Sea, the Sky, the Air, the Mountains, grow
Each moment still more glorious—matchless show!—
Each instant tints more beauteous they assume,
Like spreading flowers, still heightening to their bloom;
Their ripe full-blown perfection's glowing grace,
While not one streak we there unfinished trace.
Consummate Honr!—the waves far-glittering flow
In fire and dazzling light!—The proud Heavens glow
As though their highest heights were now unveiled;
The mountains gleam as their bright tops were scaled
By thousand torch-bearers at once! So strong
The light that lives their crimsoned crests along,
Startling and overpowering to the sense,
In colour and in brilliancy intense!
Consummate hour!—consummate scene!—be shrined
Through Memory's art, for ever in my mind—
For Nature, surely doth not proudly wear
A vesture and a mien so Heavenly fair
But for the passing moment on its flight—
No—'tis to waken thoughts, whose lofty might
Should long endure when that rich glow is gone,
And it survives but in those thoughts alone!
For this she wears her exquisite array,
And glories in a bright unmatched display;
For this she greets us, in unwonted state,
And shines in loveliness and pride, elate.
The Sea—the Sky—the Air—the Mountains, grow
Each moment more sublime, above—below,
The glory spreads, and all is wrapp'd and wound
In one deep beauty, that hath not a bound;
And who shall say where spreads the mightiest charm
On Earth's lit face, or where Heaven's splendours swarm?
Below—or in the bright triumphal Sky—
Yet there the Enchanter reigns enthroned on high.
There reigns the Great Magician of the hour—
In all the proudest fullness of his power;
Ere yet his daily course is fully run,
The setting, sinking, slow descending Sun!
From whose resplendent throne of burning light,
Those splendours all, stream down upon the sight!
Till beauteous grows the Universal Scene,
As 'twere suffused with an Immortal Sheen!
The Sea—the Sky—the Air—the Mountains—say,
To these do we the eye's rapt homage pay?
Nor to that Sun who lends them every charm,
Turn with an admiration yet more warm!
Oh! for that sinking and descending Sun—
'Tis beautiful—but 'tis unchanged and One!—
And in his own Reflection's sumptuous pride,
Spread broad afar, beneath, around, beside,
Appears—while glows the Scene, by shades uncross'd,
Victoriously—magnificently lost!—
Though paramount, and absolute he be,
And all pre-eminent in Majesty.
A glorious and unrivalled Potentate,
Girt with the splendours of a princely State—
Still for that sinking, that descending Sun—
'Tis beautiful, but 'tis unchanged and One!
The wonders he hath wrought himself surpass,
More beautious is he in his varying glass,
Than is his Mighty Self—all shapes—all hues,
(While round him fast fresh glories still he strews,)
His rich Reflection exquisitely takes,
And on the sense a World of wonders breaks!—
Each golden-gleaming smile—each wandering ray,
In thousand bright unfoldings glittering play—
He hath no Rival, save himself—behold
His Shadow, all of crimson light and gold,
In these fine shiftings can compete alone,
With that Great Monarch on his blazing Throne.
His own Imperial Image every where,
Thus stamped Majestic and Sublimely fair—
Can only thus dispute his claim and right,
And win from him with deep and magic might.
The enraptured homage of the adoring eye,
And bid it pass the Sovereign Splendour by,
His images!—his shadows!—for 'tis not
Fixed in one shape, or fettered to one spot;
That deep eflection—and 'tis that which charms
The 'wildered eye, while throng in glittering swarms
These countless kindling lustres brightening round,
Without cessation and without a bound.
He hath no Rival save himself—behold
How proudly that Reflection doth unfold,
In every shape, and shown on every side,
In multiplied and heightened radiance wide!
In that he shines most glorious and supreme,
While Seas of golden sunshine round him stream;
In that he takes all semblances and shapes,
And in the rolling cloud afar escapes—
Rolling in gold and glory—spreading wide
Its gleaming wings of fair and fulgent pride—
And in those waves far-dazzling rippling flows,
Varying from gilded sheen to blushful rose.
Yet steadfast still in lustre, strong and clear,
That makes the waves, like gems dissolved, appear!—
And towers effulgent, o'er the effulgent shores,
In each fair mount that crimson-crested soars,
Like thrones to pillar strong, that proudest throne,
To which he thus aspireth back—his own!
And on those shores smiles beautiful and bright,
In burning bloom, and keen vermillion light.
And still that rich Reflection's boundless blaze,
Wins, fixes, fascinates the admiring gaze!—
And tempts us with its witchery to forget
That soon of sunset born, it too must set,
And with its gleams and tints, and glows and smiles,
The sense confused—yet raptured it beguiles
From the great, glorious, mighty Source of all,
That triumphs in his high monarchic hall—
And flings the banners of that triumph wide,
With all their blazoned pomp from side to side—
And bids the pageants of his pride unroll,
Till blaze to suns the thoughts of th' inmost Soul!
And casts, as 'twere, his crown from off his brow,
To jewel Earth and Air thus richly now,
And is himself, in this his finest hour,
While sinking bright in that fair western bower
Of regal glory, and Augustan pride,
(Where still in king-like state doth he abide)
'Midst his own splendours, by no shadow cross'd,
Imperially—magnificently, lost!