The Poetical Works of Robert Montgomery :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Poem opens with an apostrophe to the Deity— He was, ere Time began—Vision of the Creation— We cannot escape the Omnipresent God—He pervades all things—Allusion to His appearance on Mount Sinai—The Red Sea—Nature attests the presence of her Architect—The impossibility of perfectly tracing the Deity's influence: we can only select those scenes which impressively demonstrate it—The thunder—the ocean-tempest—The Presence of the Deity felt in the repose of Nature— The calm which succeeds a storm — Aspirations awakened by a view of the setting sun.

The hand of God is next traced in a rapid view of the Seasons:—Spring—Mountains—Sacred feclings kindled by the sight of an august ruin—The Convalescent—The. Heavens—A moonlight walk—The soul conscious of its celestial origin—Every clime an object of the Deity's care — Condensed view of His providence—Not only nature, but human life, in all its diversified forms, regulated by Him. But there is a far sublimer sense in which a Christian enjoys a Divine Presence in creation, and therefore, this part of the poem is concluded by a consideration of the doctrine which Christianity reveals, by whose light the glory of nature is rendered more glorious, and all the beauty of outward things becomes a symbol of that which is unscen.

Thou Uncreate, Unseen, and Undefined,
Source of all life, and fountain of the mind;
Pervading Spirit, whom no eye can trace,
Felt through all time, and working in all space,
Imagination cannot paint that spot,
Around, above, beneath, where Thou art not!

Before the glad stars hymn'd to new-born earth,
Or young creation revell'd in its birth,
Thy Spirit moved upon the pregnant deep,
Unchain'd the waveless waters from their sleep,
Bade Time's majestic wings to be unfurl'd,
And out of darkness drew the breathing World.

Primeval Power! before Thy thunder rang,
And Nature from eternity outsprang;
Ere matter form'd at Thy creative tone,
Thou wert; Almighty, Endless, and Alone:
In Thine own Essence, all that was to be,—
Sublime, unfathomable Deity:
Thou saidst—and lo! a universe was born,
And Light flash'd from Thee, for her birth-day morn.

The Earth unshrouded all her beauty now;
The kingly mountain bared his awful brow,
Flowers, fruits, and trees felt instantaneous life:—
But, hark, creation trembles with the strife
Of roaring waves in wild commotion hurl'd,—
'Tis Ocean winding round the rocking world!

And next, triumphant o'er the green-clad earth,
The universal Sun burst into birth,
And dash'd from off his altitude sublime
The first dread ray that mark'd commencing time!
Last, came the Moon upon the wings of light,
And sat in glory on the throne of night,
While, young and fresh, a radiant host of stars
Wheel'd round the heavens upon their burning cars.

But all was dismal as a world of dead,
Till the great Deep her living swarms outspread:
Forth from her teeming bosom, sudden came
Uncounted monsters,—mighty, without name;
Then, thick as dews upon a twilight green,
The living creatures rose upon the scene.

Creation's master-piece! a breath of God,
Ray of His glory, quicken'd at His nod,
Immortal Man came next, divinely grand,
Glorious and perfect from his Maker's hand;
Last, softly beautiful as Music's close,
Angelic Woman into being rose.

And now, the gorgeous universe was rife,
Full, fair, and glowing with created life;
And when th' Eternal, from His starry height,
Beheld the young world basking in His light,
And breathing incense of deep gratitude,
He bless'd it,—for His mercy made it good.

And thus, Thou wert, and art, the Fountain Soul,
And countless worlds around Thee live and roll;
In sun and shade, in ocean and in air
Diffused, yet undiminish'd—everywhere:

All life and motion from Thy source began,
From worlds to atoms, Angels down to Man.

Lord of all being! where can Fancy fly,
To what far realms, unmeasur'd by Thine eye?
Where can we hide beneath Thy blazing sun,
Where dwell'st Thou not, the boundless, viewless One?
Shall Guilt couch down within the cavern's gloom,
And quiv'ring, groaning, meditate her doom?
Or scale the mountains, where the whirlwinds rest,
And in the night-blast cool her fiery breast?—
Within the cavern-gloom Thine eye can see,
The sky-clad mountains lift their heads to Thee;
Thy Spirit rides upon the thunder-storms,
Dark'ning the skies into terrific forms!
Beams in the lightning, rocks upon the seas,
Roars in the blast, and whispers in the breeze;
In calm and storm, in Heaven and Earth Thou art,
Trace but Thy works—they bring Thee to the heart!

The fulness of Thy Presence who can see?
Man cannot live, great God! and look on Thee;
Around Thy path the quenchless lightnings glow,—
Thy Voice appals the shudd'ring world below.

Oh, Egypt felt Thee, when, by signs unscared,
To mock Thy might the rebel monarch dared:
Thou look'dst—and Ocean sever'd at the glance!
Undaunted, still the charioteers advance;
Thou look'dst again—she clash'd her howling waves,
And Storms in triumph revell'd o'er their graves!

On Sinai's mountain when Thy glory came
In rolls of thunder, and in clouds of flame;
There, while volcanie smoke Thy throne o'ercast,
And the mount shrunk beneath the trumpet-blast,
How did thy Symbol blind all Israel's eye,
How dreadful were the gleams of Deity!

There is a voiceless eloquence on Earth,
Telling of Him who gave her wonders birth;
And long may I remain th' adoring child
Of Nature's majesty, sublime or wild;
Hill, flood, and forest, mountain, rock, and sea,
All take their terrors, or their charms from Thee,
From Thee, whose hidden but supreme control
Moves through the world—a universal Soul.

But who could trace Thine unrestricted course,
Though fancy followed with immortal force?
There's not a blossom fondled by the breeze,
There's not a fruit that beautifies the trees,
There's not a particle in sea or air
But Nature owns Thy plastic influence there!
With gaze devout still be it mine to see
How all is fill'd and vivified by Thee;
On the vast scene of earth's majestic view,
To paint Thy glories, and to feel them too.

Ye giant Winds! that from your gloomy sleep
Rise in your wrath, and revel on the deep;
Lightnings! which are the mystic gleams of God,
That glanced when on the sacred mount he trod;
And ye, black Thunders! that begird His form,
Pealing your loud hosannahs o'er the storm;
Around me rally in concentred might,
And strike my being with a dread delight;
Sublimely musing, let me pause and see,
And pour my awe-struck soul, O God! to Thee.

A thunder-storm!—the eloquence of heaven,
When the thick clouds, like airy walls are riven,
Who hath not paused beneath its hollow groan,
And felt omnipotence around him thrown?
With what a gloom the ush'ring Scene appears!
The leaves all fluttering with instinctive fears,
The waters curling with a fellow dread,
A breezeless fervour round creation spread,
And, last, the heavy rain's reluctant shower,
With big drops patt'ring on the tree and bower,
While wizard shapes the bowing sky deform,—
All mark the coming of a Thunder-storm.

Oh, now to be alone, on some vast height,
Where heaven's black curtains terrify the sight,
And watch the clouds together meet and clash,
While fierce-wing'd lightnings from their conflict flash;
To see the caverns of the sky disclose
The buried flames that in their wombs repose,
And mark the lurid meteors fall and rise,
In dizzy chase along the rattling skies,—
How quakes the Spirit while the echoes roll,
And God, in thunder, speaks from pole to pole!

And thou, weird Ocean! on whose awful face
Time's iron feet can print no ruin-trace,
By breezes lull'd, or by the storm-blasts driven,
Thy tow'ring waves uplift the mind to heaven.

Tremendous art Thou! in thy tempest-ire,
When the mad surges to the clouds respire,
And like new Apennines from out the sea,
Thy waves march on in mountain-majesty.
Oh! never can the dark-souled Atheist stand,
And watch the breakers boiling on the strand,
Nor feel Religion from the sea arise,
And preach to conscience what his will denies;

His heart is wiser than his head would be,
And awe instinctive tells, O God, of Thee!
He hears Him in the wind-heav'd ocean's roar,
Hurling her billowy crags upon the shore;
He hears Him in the horror of the blast,
And shakes while rush the raving whirlwinds past!

But not alone, when waves and whirlwinds rise,
And wing their voices through the startled skies;
Not in the storm, the thunder, or the sea,
Alone we feel thy dread ubiquity:
In calmer scenes, and the unruffled hour,
Our still'd hearts own Thine omnipresent power.

List! now the cradled winds have hush'd their roar,
And infant waves curl gamb'ling to the shore,
While Nature seems to wake up fresh and clear
As Hope emerging from the gloom of fear,
And the bright dew-bead on the verdure lies,
Like liquid rapture upon beauty's eyes,—
How heavenly 'tis to take our pensive range,
And mark 'tween storm and calm the lovely change!

First comes the sun, unveiling half its face,
Like a coy virgin, with reluctant grace,
While dark clouds skirted with a slanting ray
Roll, one by one, in azure depths away,
Till pearly shapes, like molten billows, lie
Along the tinted bosom of the sky:
Next, breezes murmur with harmonious charm,
Panting and wild, like orphans of the storm;
Now sipping flowers, now making blossoms shake,
Or weaving ripples on the grass-green lake;
And thus, the Tempest dies: and soft, and still,
The rainbow drops upon the distant hill:
But now, while bloom and breeze their charms unite,
And all is glowing with a rich delight,
God! who can tread upon the breathing ground,
Nor feel Thee present, where Thy smiles abound?

When Day hath glided to his rosy bower,
And twilight comes—the Poet's witching hour,
And dream-like language from the soft-toned wind
With pensive cadence charms the list'ning mind,
Then nature's beauty, clothed with dewy light,
Melts on the heart like music through the night.

And not in vain, voluptuous Eventide,
Thy dappled clouds along th'horizon glide;
For oh! while heaven and earth grow dumb with bliss
In homage to an hour divine as this,
How sweet, upon yon mountain's azure brow,
While ruddy sun-beams gild the crags below,
To stand, and mark with meditative view,
Where the far ocean faints in hazy blue,
While on the bosom of the midway deep
The emerald waves in dimpling splendour leap;
Here, as we view the gorgeous Priest of time,
Wrapp'd in a shroud of glory, sink sublime,
Thoughts of ethereal beauty spring to birth,
And waft the soul beyond the dreams of earth.

And who hath gazed upon the bright-wing'd Morn,
Breezy and fresh, from out the ocean born;
Her rich-wove cloud-wreaths, and the rainbow hues
From heaven reflected on creation's views;
Or mark'd the wonders of a day depart,
Nor felt a heaven-caught influence at his heart?
Through all the seasons' varying course of love,
Who hath not traced the Spirit from above?
The howl of Winter in the leafless wood;
The ice-bound torrent, and the whelming flood;
Or Summer's flush, or Autumn, robed in grey,
Whirling the red leaves round her bleak-worn way,—
All tell one tale of Heaven. But thou, young Spring!
Glad as the wild bee on his glossy wing,
Bedeck'd with bloom, and breathing life around,
Within thy breast Elysian charms abound.

The mercy-fountains of Divinity
Now stream through all, with vigour full and free;
As if unloosen'd from their living source,
To carry with them spring's creative force.
The sky is garlanded with waves of blue,
Like ocean dawning on the distant view;
The sun lies mirror'd on the radiant streams,
The sea-waves gambol in his noontide beams,
The boughs hang glitt'ring in their locks of green,
And airy poets carol to the scene;
While sea, and sky, and land, and fragrant Earth
With her rich promise budding into birth,—
Seem, like a heart o'erfill'd with sacred love,
Glowing with gratitude to Him above.

Terrific giants that o'erlook the sea,
Enormous masses of sublimity,
Ye mountain-piles! Earth's monuments to Heaven,
Around whose brows the reeling storms are driven,

Whether in climes where 'bove the ice-chain'd deep
Ye rise in piles magnificently steep,
Or where in living bloom your bosoms swell,
And fierce and far the headlong torrents yell,—
Where snow-drifts whiten, or where sunbeams warm,
Your brows are girdled with almighty charm!

When drops the sun in yonder western deep,
The waves unruffled, and the winds asleep;
And isles of beauty float the brilliant sky,
While Fancy muses with enamour'd eye;
Then comes the hour to fascinate the sight,
Where the wild mountain rears its massy height.
There, as we gaze, mysterious thoughts begin
To stir th' immortal spark that burns within;
Till Wonder starts with a bewild'ring fear,
As if the advent of our God were near!

And where, beneath the stern decree of time,
Columns and temples sink in age sublime;
Where by the ruin'd battlements are heard
The wailing sorrows of some midnight bird,
While low winds mutter through the roofless halls,
And ivy-boughs bend weeping o'er the walls,
Imagination loves to stand and dream,
And mark yon ruin in the moonlight gleam,
Till summon'd Ages startle from their sleep,
And plaintive Mem'ry turns aside to weep!—
Or view, when sunset drinks the forest-breeze,
Where some grey abbey glimmers through the trees,
And on the turrets evening's pallid rays
Gleam like the glory of departed days,
How soon the cloister'd stillness of the spot
Brings heaven around us, till the world's forgot;
While Retrospection draws the moral sigh,
And dreams embodied move before her eye.

Great Architect of worlds! whose forming power
Presided o'er creation's natal hour,
Stamp'd man Thy miniature, and bade him run
A race of glory, till his goal be won;
When wan Disease exhales her withering breath,
And dims his beauty with the damp of death;
At some still hour the holy sigh will swell,
The gushing tear of gratitude will tell
That Thou art by, to temper and to tame
The trembling anguish of the fever'd frame.

But oh! when heal'd by love and heaven, we rise,
With radiant cheek, and re-illumin'd eyes,
Bright as a new-born sun, all nature beams,
And through the spirit darts immortal dreams.
Now for the bracing hills, and healthful plains,
And pensive ramble when the noontide wanes;
Now for the walk beside some haunted wood,
And fancy-music of a distant flood;
While far and wide, the wand'ring eye surveys,
And the heart pants to pour away its praise!

But, turn from earth to yonder glorious sky,
Th' imagin'd dwelling-place of Deity.
Ye quenchless Stars! so eloquently bright,
Ye radiant Watchers of reposing night,
While half the world is lapp'd in blissful dreams
And round the lattice creep your fairy beams,
How sweet to gaze upon your placid eyes,
In lambent beauty looking from the skies!

And when, oblivious of the world, we stray
At dead of night along some noiscless way,
How the Heart mingles with a moon-lit hour,
And feels from heaven a sympathetic power!—
See, not a cloud careers yon pathless deep
Of molten azure,—mute as lovely sleep;
Full in her pallid light the Moon presides,
Shrined in a halo, mellowing as she rides;
And far around, the forest and the stream
Wear the rich garment of her silver beam.
The lull'd Winds, too, are sleeping in their caves,
No stormy prelude rolls upon the waves;
Nature is hush'd, as if her works adored
The night-felt presence of creation's Lord.

And now, while through the ocean-mantling haze
A mournful lustre tremulously plays,
And glimm'ring loveliness hath veil'd the land,
Go, stranger, muse thou by the wave-worn strand:
Cent'ries have glided o'er the balanced earth,
Myriads have bless'd, and myriads curs'd their birth;
Still, beauteously yon starry watchers glare,
Unsullied as the God who throned them there!
Though moral earthquakes heave th' astounded world,
And king and kingdom from their pride are hurl'd,

Intensely calm, they hold their bright career,
Unheedful of the storms and changes here:—
We want no hymn to hear, nor pomp to see,
For all around is felt divinity!
The wing'd heart flutters to ascend above
To Him whose nature and whose name are Love.
And if revered ones, from their hallow'd sphere,
May witness warm Affection's faithful tear,
At this deep hour they hear the mourner's sigh,
And waft a blessing from their homes on high.

Stupendous God! how shrinks our bounded sense
To track the triumphs of Omnipotence;
From sky-clad mountain, to the deepest den,
From the mean insects, to immortal men;
Bless'd with Thy brightest smile, dare we confine
Paternal Providence, supreme as thine?
Far as the fancy flies, or life-stream flows,
From Georgia's desert to the Greenland snows,
Where space exists, Thine eyes of mercy see,—
Creation lives, and moves, and breathes in Thee!
Unseen, but felt, Thine interfused Control
Works in each atom, and pervades the whole;
Expands the blossom, and erects the tree,
Conducts each vapour, and commands each sea;
The Laws of Nature Thy decree fulfil,
And all Her powers but realise Thy will.

E'en now, while tragic Midnight walks the land,
And spreads the wings of darkness with her wand,
What scenes are witness'd by Thy watchful eye,
What millions waft to Thee the prayer and sigh!
Some gaily vanish to an unfear'd grave,
Fleet as the sun-flash o'er a summer-wave;
Some wear out life in smiles, and some in tears,
Some dare with hope, while others droop with fears;
The vagrant's roaming in his tatter'd vest,
The babe is sleeping on its mother's breast;
The captive mutt'ring o'er his rust-worn chain,
The widow weeping for her lord again,
While many a Mourner shuts his languid eye,
To dream of heaven, and view it ere he die,—
And yet, no sigh can swell, no tear-drop fall,
But Thou wilt see, and guide, and solace all!

And thus, a Preacher of eternal might,
Sublime in darkness, or array'd in light,
In each wild change of glory, gloom, and storm,
The starry magic, and the mountain-form,
Art thou,—dread Universe of love and power!
But, higher still the Muse's wing may tower,
And track the myst'ry of almighty ways,
Through paths that glitter with the solemn rays
The awful noon of revelation shed
From Calv'ry,—when the God Incarnate bled.

For what is Nature, though religion seems
To lend a tone to all her winds and streams;
To whisper, God! when night and darkness creep
Round the dim trances of Creation's sleep;
To teach a prayer when twilight hush descends,
And the mute bough in adoration bends;
Or bid the woods a leafy anthem raise
When the rich verdure shines with emerald rays:
Or spring, the Angel of the seasons, pours
A tide of beauty round exulting shores:

Say, what is meant?—a soft mysterious glow,
A breath too pure to live on earth below,
An evanescent luxury of thought,
Cull'd from the feast Imagination brought,—
But, frail and feeble, as the charm that dies,
When the dead waken upon mem'ry's eyes.

When lived the Age, or where the clime so rude,
What island nursed in billowy solitude,
Where dreams of God were never known to shine
Round a dark soul, with imagery divine?
The Heathen through his cloud of error saw,
A faint reflection of celestial Law;
E'en the grim savage, when his eye commands
A broad extent of green-apparel'd lands,
Or views the Tempest wave his cloudy wing
In sultry darkness o'er the world of spring,
Can hail the image of some dreamt Unknown,—
A sceptred BEING on his boundless throne.
Then boast not thou, whose spell-bound eye can see
In nature's glass reflected Deity;
From whence does moral elevation flow,
What pang is mute, what balm prepared for wo,
Though ocean, mountain, sky, and air impress
Full on the soul a felt Almightiness?
Can Ocean teach magnificence of mind?
Is truth made vocal by the deep-voiced Wind?
Can flowers their bloom of innocence impart,
Or tempt one weed of vileness from the heart?
Can thy benevolence, all bounteous Sun,
Thou burning Shadow of the brightest One!
Array our souls with emulative beam
Like thine, to glad life's universal stream?
From yon pale stars does purity descend,
And their chaste beauty with our spirit blend?—
Alas, oh, God! if Thou alone art found
When most creation with Thy smile is crown'd;
Rather in blindness let this outward eye
Be dead to nature, than Thy throne deny,
Raised on the pillars of Redemption's might,
And dazzling angels with too deep a light!

There is a Presence spiritually vast
Around Thy Church, arisen Saviour! cast;
A holy Effluence, an unspoken Awe,
A Sanctity which carnal eye ne'er saw,
A pure, impalpable, almighty Sense
Of peace, by reconciled Omnipotence,
Which hallows, haunts, and makes a Christian mind
Rich in all grace, celestially refined:
Mere Nature's worshippers can never feel
The fulness of that high seraphic zeal
Which veileth all things with religious light,
And works unwearied in Jehovah's sight:
Thought, dream, and action,—ev'ry pulse of soul
The awe of Christ will solemnly control;
Girt by The Spirit, wheresoe'er we rove,
True Faith is feeding on His word of love.
Nature is now a more than nature far;
Each miracle of sun, or moon, or star,
Each sight, and sense, and sound of outward things,
Seems haunted by august imaginings;
A dream of Calvary around her floats,
And oft the dew of those delicious notes
By angels once in Bethlehem's valley pour'd
Descends, with all their melody restored,
Till peace on earth! to pardon'd man good will!
With tones of heaven the ear of fancy fill.