Part 85 (1/2)

If it with anger overcasts the eye, And heaven's bright purity perversely blackens, Then zephyr-sighs straight scare the clouds away, And, changed to tears, dissolve them into rain.

Thought, hope, and love remain there as before, Till Cynthia gleams upon me as of old.

1820.*

----- LINES ON SEEING SCHILLER'S SKULL.

[This curious imitation of the ternary metre of Dante was written at the age of 77.]

WITHIN a gloomy charnel-house one day

I view'd the countless skulls, so strangely mated, And of old times I thought, that now were grey.

Close pack'd they stand, that once so fiercely hated, And hardy bones, that to the death contended,

Are lying cross'd,--to lie for ever, fated.

What held those crooked shoulder-blades suspended?

No one now asks; and limbs with vigour fired, The hand, the foot--their use in life is ended.

Vainly ye sought the tomb for rest when tired; Peace in the grave may not be yours; ye're driven

Back into daylight by a force inspired; But none can love the wither'd husk, though even

A glorious n.o.ble kernel it contained.

To me, an adept, was the writing given

Which not to all its holy sense explained, When 'mid the crowd, their icy shadows flinging,

I saw a form, that glorious still remained.

And even there, where mould and damp were clinging,

Gave me a blest, a rapture-fraught emotion, As though from death a living fount were springing.

What mystic joy I felt! What rapt devotion!

That form, how pregnant with a G.o.dlike trace!

A look, how did it whirl me tow'rd that ocean Whose rolling billows mightier shapes embrace!

Mysterious vessel! Oracle how dear!

Even to grasp thee is my hand too base,

Except to steal thee from thy prison here With pious purpose, and devoutly go

Back to the air, free thoughts, and sunlight clear.

What greater gain in life can man e'er know

Than when G.o.d-Nature will to him explain How into Spirit steadfastness may flow,

How steadfast, too, the Spirit-Born remain.

1826.