Yet spake yon purple mountain, Yet said yon ancient wood, That Night or Day, that Love or Crime, Leads all souls to the Good. FORERUNNERS. LONG I followed happy guides, I could never reach their sides; To hunt upon their shining trails. On and away, their hasting feet Make the morning proud and sweet; Flowers they strew, -I catch the scent; Or tone of silver instrument Leaves on the wind melodious trace; Yet I could never see their face. On eastern hills I see their smokes, Mixed with mist by distant lochs. I met many travellers Who the road had surely kept; They saw not my fine revellers, These had crossed them while they slept. Some had heard their fair report, In the country or the court. Fleetest couriers alive Never yet could once arrive, As they went or they returned, At the house where these sojourned. Sometimes their strong speed they slacken, Though they are not overtaken; In sleep their jubilant troop is near, I tuneful voices overhear; It may be in wood or waste, At unawares 'tis come and past. SURSUM CORDA. SEEK not the spirit, if it hide Inexorable to thy zeal: Baby, do not whine and chide: Art thou not also real? Why shouldst thou stoop to poor excuse? Turn on the accuser roundly; say, 'Here am I, here will I remain Forever to myself soothfast; Go thou, sweet Heaven, or at thy pleasure stay!' Already Heaven with thee its lot has cast, For only it can absolutely deal. ODE TO BEAUTY. WHO gave thee, O Beauty, Too credulous lover Of blest and unblest? Say, when in lapsed ages Thee knew I of old? Or what was the service For which I was sold? When first my eyes saw thee, By magical drawings, Thou intimate stranger, |