 | Minor Poems, including Napoleon |  |
233
TO THE CLOUDS.
I
Ye glorious pageants! hung in airTo greet our raptur'd view;
What in creation can compare,
For loveliness, with you?
II
This earth is beautiful, indeed,And in itself appeals
To eyes that have been taught to read
The beauties it reveals.
III
Its giant mountains, which ascendTo your exalted sphere,
And seem at times with you to blend
In majesty austere:
234
IV
Its lovely valleys, forests vast;Its rivers, lakes, and seas;
With every glance upon them cast
The sight, the sense must please.
V
And yet 'twere difficult to sayHow far our selfish views
Lend, to Earth's beautiful array,
Its most enchanting hues.
VI
It is not what we see, alone,Delights us most in this;
But what we call, or dream our own,
Yields self its highest bliss.
VII
Exceptions there may be, of course,Which he is blest who finds;
But some such feeling is the source
Of joy to vulgar minds.
235
VIII
A purer, more abstracted joyIt gives to gaze on you;
And feel what gladden'd once the boy,
Is sweet to manhood's view.
IX
What can there be on sea, or earth,Though charms in each abound,
Which you can fail to shadown forth,
With added beauties crown'd?
X
When through the eastern gates of heavenThe sun's first glories shine;
Or when his softest beams are given
To gild the day's decline;
XI
All glorious as that orb appears,His radiance still would lose
Each gentle charm, that most endears,
Without your soft'ning hues.
236
XII
When these with his refulgent raysHarmoniously unite,
Who on your splendid pomp can gaze,
Nor feel a hush'd delight?
XIII
'Tis then, if to the raptur'd eyeHer aid the fancy brings,
In you our vision can descry
Unutterable things!
XIV
Not merely mountains, cliffs, and caves,Domes, battlements, and towers,
Torrents of light, that fling their waves
O'er coral rocks, and bowers;
XV
Not only what to man is knownIn nature, or in art;
But objects which on earth can own
No seeming counterpart.
237
XVI
As once the Seer in Patmos sawHeaven's opening door reveal'd,
And scenes inspiring love and awe
To his rapt sight unseal'd:
XVII
So, in a faint and low degree,Through your unfoldings bright,
Phantoms of glory yet to be
Dawn on the wond'ring sight.
XVIII
Not even thought, and oh! much lessThe loftiest flights of verse,
Can paint the power ye then possess
Unworldly views to nurse.
XIX
It seems as if no dark eclipseBy earth were interpos'd;
But visions of the Apocalypse
Before us were disclos'd.
238
XX
Nor are they false, deceitful dreams,Which wisdom should suppress;
When dimm'd their most delightful gleams,
Their memory still can bless.
XXI
The warm emotion they inspir'dIn fond remembrance lives;
As evening's sky, by you attir'd,
Its lingering lustre gives.
XXII
And it remains to be the partOf wisdom — virtue too,
To seize on all which in the heart
Such feelings can renew;
XXIII
On all that for a season liftsFrom “Earth's contracted span”
Our eyes, and thoughts; — and offers gifts
Of noblest powers to man.
239
XXIV
The thousand cares that cumber lifeWrite wrinkles on the brow;
Yet these, with all their noise and strife,
Are things to which we bow.
XXV
We call them useful; — so they are,If man their use would learn;
And then from you, more glorious far,
As idle shadows turn.
XXVI
But if ye lead our thoughts to HimWhose spirit space pervades,
Then are ye, whether bright or dim,
More than aerial shades.
XXVII
I would not underrate the boonThe Gospel has proclaim'd;
Nor give to clouds, winds, sun, or moon,
His right who all has fram'd.
240
XXVIII
But viewing these as meant to feedDevotion's heaven-ward flame,
His power and love, for whom they plead,
I dare not but proclaim.
XXIX
Better, far better, not to be,Than — being — to resign
The faith that all we feel and see
Betokens Power Divine.
XXX
And rather than forego the thought,The feeling, ye supply,
As silently ye sail athwart
The blue, o'er-arching sky —
XXXI
Be mine the faith the Indian finds,Whom nature's night enshrouds,
Who yet can hear a God in winds,
And see Him in the clouds!
| Minor Poems, including Napoleon | |