Volume 2 / Part 2 / Act 4 — APPENDIX I

My pensive Sara! thy soft Cheek reclin'd Thus on my arm, how soothing sweet it is Beside our Cot to sit, our Cot o'ergrown With white-flowr'd Jasmine and the blossom'd myrtle, (Meet emblems they of Innocence and Love!) 5 And watch the Clouds, that late were rich with light, Slow-sad'ning round, and mark the star of eve Serenely brilliant, like thy polish'd Sense, Shine opposite! What snatches of perfume The noiseless gale from yonder bean-field wafts! 10 The stilly murmur of the far-off Sea Tells us of Silence! and behold, my love! In the half-closed window we will place the Harp, Which by the desultory Breeze caress'd, Like some coy maid half willing to be woo'd, 15 Utters such sweet upbraidings as, perforce, Tempt to repeat the wrong!

My pensive Sara! thy soft Cheek reclin'd Thus on my arm, most soothing sweet it is To sit beside our Cot, our Cot o'ergrown With white-flower'd Jasmin, and the broad-leav'd Myrtle (Meet emblems they of Innocence and Love!) 5 And watch the Clouds that, late were rich with light, Slow-sadd'ning round, and mark the Star of eve [1022] Serenely brilliant (such should Wisdom be!) Shine opposite. How exquisite the Scents Snatch'd from yon Bean-field! And the world so hush'd! 10 The stilly murmur of the far-off Sea Tells us of Silence! And that simplest Lute Plac'd lengthways in the clasping casement, hark! How by the desultory Breeze caress'd (Like some coy Maid half-yielding to her Lover) 15 It pours such sweet Upbraidings, as must needs Tempt to repeat the wrong. And now it's strings Boldlier swept, the long sequacious notes Over delicious Surges sink and rise In aëry voyage, Music such as erst 20 Round rosy bowers (so Legendaries tell) To sleeping Maids came floating witchingly By wand'ring West winds stoln from Faery land; Where on some magic Hybla Melodies Round many a newborn honey-dropping Flower 25 Footless and wild, like Birds of Paradise, Nor pause nor perch, warbling on untir'd wing. And thus, my Love! as on the midway Slope Of yonder Hill I stretch my limbs at noon And tranquil muse upon Tranquillity. 30 Full many a Thought uncall'd and undetain'd And many idle flitting Phantasies Traverse my indolent and passive Mind As wild, as various, as the random Gales That swell or flutter on this subject Lute. 35 And what if All of animated Life Be but as Instruments diversly fram'd That tremble into thought, while thro' them breathes One infinite and intellectual Breeze, And all in diff'rent Heights so aptly hung, 40 That Murmurs indistinct and Bursts sublime, Shrill Discords and most soothing Melodies, Harmonious from Creation's vast concent— Thus God would be the universal Soul, [1023] Mechaniz'd matter as th' organic harps 45 And each one's Tunes be that, which each calls I. But thy more serious Look a mild Reproof Darts, O beloved Woman, and thy words Pious and calm check these unhallow'd Thoughts, These Shapings of the unregen'rate Soul, 50 Bubbles, that glitter as they rise and break On vain Philosophy's aye-babbling Spring: Thou biddest me walk humbly with my God! Meek Daughter in the family of Christ. Wisely thou sayest, and holy are thy words! 55 Nor may I unblam'd or speak or think of Him, Th' Incomprehensible! save when with Awe I praise him, and with Faith that inly feels, Who with his saving Mercies healèd me, A sinful and most miserable man 60 Wilder'd and dark, and gave me to possess Peace and this Cot, and Thee, my best-belov'd!

In diff'rent heights, so aptly hung, that all In half-heard murmurs and loud bursts sublime, Shrill discords and most soothing melodies, Raises one great concent—one concent formed, Thus God, the only universal Soul—

As the tir'd savage, who his drowsy frame Had bask'd beneath the sun's unclouded flame, Awakes amid the troubles of the air, The skiey deluge and white lightning's glare, Aghast he scours before the tempest's sweep, 5 And sad recalls the sunny hour of sleep! So tost by storms along life's wild'ring way Mine eye reverted views that cloudless day, When by my native brook I wont to rove, While Hope with kisses nurs'd the infant Love! 10 Dear native brook! like peace so placidly Smoothing thro' fertile fields thy current meek— Dear native brook! where first young Poesy Star'd wildly eager in her noon-tide dream; [1024] Where blameless Pleasures dimpled Quiet's cheek, 15 As water-lilies ripple thy slow stream! How many various-fated years have past, What blissful and what anguish'd hours, since last I skimm'd the smooth thin stone along thy breast Numb'ring its light leaps! Yet so deep imprest 20 Sink the sweet scenes of childhood, that mine eyes I never shut amid the sunny blaze, But strait, with all their tints, thy waters rise, The crossing plank, and margin's willowy maze, And bedded sand, that, vein'd with various dyes, 25 Gleam'd thro' thy bright transparence to the gaze— Ah! fair tho' faint those forms of memory seem Like Heaven's bright bow on thy smooth evening stream.

Auspicious Reverence! Hush all meaner song, Till we the deep prelusive strain have pour'd To the Great Father, only Rightful King, Eternal Father! king omnipotent; Beneath whose shadowing banners wide-unfurl'd 5 Justice leads forth her tyrant-quelling Hosts. Such Symphony demands best Instrument. Seize, then, my Soul, from Freedom's trophied dome The harp which hanging high between the shields Of Brutus and Leonidas, oft gives 10 A fitful music, when with breeze-like Touch Great Spirits passing thrill its wings: the Bard Listens and knows, thy will to work by Fame. For what is Freedom, but the unfetter'd use Of all the powers which God for use had given? 15 But chiefly this, him first to view, him last, Thro' shapes, and sounds, and all the world of sense, The change of empires, and the deeds of Man Translucent, as thro' clouds that veil the Light. But most, O Man! in thine in wasted Sense 20 And the still growth of Immortality [1025] Image of God, and his Eternity. But some there are who deem themselves most wise When they within this gross and visible sphere Chain down the winged thought, scoffing ascent 25 Proud in their meanness—and themselves they mock With noisy emptiness of learned phrase Their subtle fluids, impacts, essences, Self-working tools, uncaused effects, and all Those blind Omniscients, those Almighty Slaves, 30 Untenanting Creation of its God! But properties are God: the Naked Mass (If Mass there be, at best a guess obscure,) Acts only by its inactivity. Here we pause humbly. Others boldlier dream, 35 That as one body is the Aggregate Of Atoms numberless, each organiz'd, So by a strange and dim similitude Infinite myriads of self-conscious minds Form one all-conscious Spirit, who controlls 40 With absolute ubiquity of Thought All his component Monads: linked Minds, Each in his own sphere evermore evolving Its own entrusted powers—Howe'er this be, Whether a dream presumptious, caught from earth 45 And earthly form, or vision veiling Truth, Yet the Omnific Father of all Worlds God in God immanent, the eternal Word, That gives forth, yet remains—Sun, that at once Dawns, rises, sets and crowns the Height of Heaven, 50 Great general Agent in all finite souls, Doth in that action put on finiteness, For all his Thoughts are acts, and every act A Being of Substance; God impersonal, Yet in all worlds impersonate in all, 55 Absolute Infinite, whose dazzling robe Flows in rich folds, and darts in shooting Hues Of infinite Finiteness! he rolls each orb Matures each planet, and Tree, and spread thro' all Wields all the Universe of Life and Thought, 60 [Yet leaves to all the Creatures meanest, highest, Angelic Right, self-conscious Agency—]

Auspicious Reverence! Hush all meaner song, Ere we the deep prelusive strain have pour'd To the Great Father, only Rightful king All-gracious Father, king Omnipotent! Mind! co-eternal Word! forth-breathing Sound! 5 Aye unconfounded: undivided Trine— Birth and Procession; ever re-incircling Act! God in God immanent, distinct yet one! Omnific, Omniform. The Immoveable, That goes forth and remains, eke——and at once 10 Dawns, rises, and sets and crowns the height of Heaven!

Such Symphony demands best Instrument. Seize then, my soul! from Freedom's trophied dome. The harp which hanging high between the shields Of Brutus and Leonidas, gives oft 15 A fateful Music, when with breeze-like Touch Pure spirits thrill its strings: the Poet's heart Listens, and smiling knows that Poets demand Once more to live for Man and work by Fame: For what is Freedom, but th' unfetter'd use 20 Of all the Powers, which God for use had given! Thro' the sweet Influence of harmonious Word——

And cheats us with false prophecies of sound

Auspicious Reverence! Hush all meaner song, Till we the deep prelusive strain have pour'd To the Great Father, only Rightful king, All Gracious Father, king Omnipotent! To Him, the inseparate, unconfounded Trine, 5 Mind! Co-eternal Word! Forth-breathing Sound! Birth! and Procession! Ever-circling Act! GOD in GOD immanent, distinct yet one! Sole Rest, true Substance of all finite Being! Omnific! Omniform! The Immoveable, 10 That goes forth and remaineth: and at once Dawns, rises, sets and crowns the height of Heaven! * * * * * Such Symphony demands best Instrument. Seize then, my Soul! from Freedom's trophied dome The Harp, that hanging high between the Shields 15 Of Brutus and Leonidas, flashes forth Starts of shrill-music, when with breeze-like Touch Departed Patriots thrill the——

"O France," he cried, "my country"! When soft as breeze that curls the summer clouds At close of day, stole on his ear a voice 35 Seraphic. "Son of Orleans! grieve no more. His eye not slept, tho' long the All-just endured [1028] The woes of France; at length his bar'd right arm Volleys red thunder. From his veiling clouds Rushes the storm, Ruin and Fear and Death. 40 Take Son of Orleans the relief of Heaven: Nor thou the wintry hours of adverse fate Dream useless: tho' unhous'd thou roam awhile, The keen and icy wind that shivers thee Shall brace thine arm, and with stern discipline 45 Firm thy strong heart for fearless enterprise As who, through many a summer night serene Had hover'd round the fold with coward wish; Horrid with brumal ice, the fiercer wolf From his bleak mountain and his den of snows 50 Leaps terrible and mocks the shepherd's spears."

nor those ingredients dire Erictho mingled on Pharsalia's field, Making the soul retenant its cold corse.

the groves of Paradise Gave their mild echoes to the choral songs Of new-born beings.—

And oft the tear from his averted eye He dried; mindful of fertile fields laid waste, Dispeopled hamlets, the lorn widow's groan, And the pale orphan's feeble cry for bread. 270 But when he told of those fierce sons of guilt That o'er this earth which God had fram'd so fair— Spread desolation, and its wood-crown'd hills Make echo to the merciless war-dog's howl; And how himself from such foul savagery 275 Had scarce escap'd with life, then his stretch'd arm Seem'd, as it wielded the resistless sword Of Vengeance: in his eager eye the soul Was eloquent; warm glow'd his manly cheek; And beat against his side the indignant heart. 280

then methought From a dark lowering cloud, the womb of tempests, 455 A giant arm burst forth and dropt a sword That pierc'd like lightning thro' the midnight air. Then was there heard a voice, which in mine ear Shall echo, at that hour of dreadful joy When the pale foe shall wither in my rage. 460

Last evening lone in thought I wandered forth. Down in the dingle's depth there is a brook 485 That makes its way between the craggy stones, Murmuring hoarse murmurs. On an aged oak Whose root uptorn by tempests overhangs The stream, I sat, and mark'd the deep red clouds Gather before the wind, while the rude dash 490 Of waters rock'd my senses, and the mists Rose round: there as I gazed, a form dim-seen Descended, like the dark and moving clouds That in the moonbeam change their shadowy shapes. His voice was on the breeze; he bade me hail 495 The missioned Maid! for lo! the hour was come.

Martyr'd patriots—spirits pure Wept by the good ye fell! Yet still survives Sow'd by your toil and by your blood manur'd 75 Th' imperishable seed, soon to become The Tree, beneath whose vast and mighty shade The sons of men shall pitch their tents in peace, And in the unity of truth preserve The bond of love. For by the eye of God 80 Hath Virtue sworn, that never one good act Was work'd in vain.

The murmuring tide Lull'd her, and many a pensive pleasing dream Rose in sad shadowy trains at Memory's call. 330 She thought of Arc, and of the dingled brook, [1030] Whose waves oft leaping on their craggy course Made dance the low-hung willow's dripping twigs; And where it spread into a glassy lake, Of the old oak which on the smooth expanse, 335 Imag'd its hoary mossy-mantled boughs.