Soul of our Souls, and safeguard of the world! Sustain, Thou only canst, the sick of heart; Restore their languid spirits, and recall Their lost affections unto Thee and thine! 39
Then, as we issued from that covert Nook, He thus continued lifting up his eyes To Heaven "How beautiful this dome of sky, And the vast hills, in fluctuation fixed
At thy command, how awful! Shall the Soul, Human and rational, report of Thee
Even less than these? Be mute who will, who can, Yet I will praise thee with impassioned voice:
My lips, that may forget thee in the crowd, Cannot forget thee here; where Thou hast built, For thy own glory, in the wilderness!
Me didst thou constitute a Priest of thine,
In such a Temple as we now behold
Reared for thy presence: therefore, am I bound To worship here, and every where as One Not doomed to ignorance, though forced to tread, From childhood up, the ways of poverty; From unreflecting ignorance preserved, And from debasement rescued. By thy grace The particle divine remained unquenched; And, 'mid the wild weeds of a rugged soil, Thy bounty caused to flourish deathless flowers From Paradise transplanted; wintry age Impends; the frost will gather round my heart; And, if they wither, I am worse than dead!
Come, Labor, when the worn-out frame requires Perpetual sabbath; come, disease and want; And sad exclusion through decay of sense; But leave me unabated trust in Thee!
And let thy favor, to the end of life,
Inspire me with ability to seek
Repose and hope among eternal things Father of heaven and earth! and I am rich
And will possess my portion in content!
"And what are things Eternal? --Powers depart,” The gray-haired Wanderer steadfastly replied, Answering the question which himself had asked, "Possessions vanish, and opinions change, And Passions hold a fluctuating seat:
But, by the storms of circumstance unshaken, And subject neither to eclipse nor wane, Duty exists; immutably survive,
For our support, the measures and the forms, Which an abstract Intelligence supplies;
Whose kingdom is, where Time and Space are not,
Of other converse which mind, soul, and heart,
Do with united urgency require,
What more that may not perish? Thou, dread Source
Prime, self-existing Cause and End of all,
That, in the scale of Being, fill their place,
Above our human region, or below,
Set and sustained; - Thou, who didst wrap the cloud Of Infancy around us, that Thyself,
Therein, with our simplicity a while
Mightest hold, on earth, communion undisturbed- Who from the anarchy of dreaming sleep, Or from its death-like void, with punctual care, And touch as gentle as the morning light, Restorest us, daily, to the powers of sense, And reason's steadfast rule Thou, Thou alone Art everlasting, and the blessed Spirits, Which thou includest, as the Sea her Waves: For adoration thou endur'st; endure
For consciousness the motions of thy will;
For apprehension those transcendent truths Of the pure Intellect, that stand as laws, (Submission constituting strength and power,) Even to thy Being's infinite majesty!
This Universe shall pass away
Glorious! because the shadow of thy might, A step, or link, for intercourse with Thee. Ah! if the time must come, in which my feet No more shall stray where Meditation leads, By flowing stream, through wood, or craggy wild, Loved haunts like these, the unimprisoned Mind May yet have scope to range among her own, Her thoughts, her images, her high desires. If the dear faculty of sight should fail, Still, it may be allowed me to remember What visionary powers of eye and soul
In youth were mine; when, stationed on the top Of some huge hill-expectant, I beheld The Sun rise up, from distant climes returned Darkness to chase, and sleep, and bring the day His bounteous gift! or saw him toward the Deep Sink with a retinue of flaming clouds Attended; then, my Spirit was entranced With joy exalted to beatitude;
The measure of my soul was filled with bliss, And holiest love; as earth, sea, air, with light, With pomp, with glory, with magnificence!
"Those fervent raptures are for ever flown; And, since their date, my Soul hath undergone Change manifold, for better or for worse:
Yet cease I not to struggle, and aspire
Heavenward; and chide the part of me tant flagg, Through sinful choice; or dread necessity, On human Nature from above imposed.
"Tis, by comparison, an easy task
Earth to despise; but, to converse with Heaven This is not easy: to relinquish all
We have, or hope, of happiness and joy,
And stand in freedom loosened from this world, I deem not arduous:- but must needs confess That 'tis a thing impossible to frame Conceptions equal to the Soul's desires; And the most difficult of tasks to keep Heights which the soul is competent to gain. Man is of dust: ethereal hopes are his, Which, when they should sustain themselves aloft, Want due consistence; like a pillar of smoke, That with majestic energy from earth Rises; but, having reached the thinner air, Melts, and dissolves, and is no longer seen. From this infirmity of mortal kind Sorrow proceeds, which else were not; If Grief be something hallowed and ordained, If, in proportion, it be just and meet, Through this, 'tis able to maintain its hold, In that excess which Conscience disapproves. For who could sink and settle to that point Of selfishness; so senseless who could be As long and perseveringly to mourn For any Object of his love, removed From this unstable world, if he could fix A satisfying view upon that state Of pure, imperishable blessedness, Which reason promises, and Holy Writ Insures to all Believers? Yet mistrust
Is of such incapacity, methinks,
No natural branch; despondency far less.
And, if there be whose tender frames have drooped
Even to the dust; apparently, through weight Of anguish unrelieved, and lack of power An agonizing sorrow to transmute,
Infer not hence a hope from those withheld When wanted most; a confidence impaired So pitiably, that, having ceased to see
With bodily eyes, they are borne down by love Of what is lost, and perish through regret. Oh! no, full oft the innocent Sufferer sees Too clearly; feels too vividly; and longs To realize the Vision, with intense And over-constant yearning - there The excess, by which the balance is destroyed. Too, too contracted are these walls of flesh, This vital warmth too cold, these visual orbs, Though inconceivably endowed, too dim
For any passion of the soul that leads To ecstasy; and, all the crooked paths
Of time and change disdaining, takes its course Along the line of limitless desires.
I, speaking now from such disorder free, Nor rapt, nor craving, but in settled peace, I cannot doubt that They whom you deplore Are glorified; or, if they sleep, shall wake From sleep, and dwell with God in endless love. Hope, below this, consists not with belief
In mercy, carried infinite degrees
Beyond the tenderness of human hearts: Hope, below this, consists not with belief In perfect Wisdom, guiding mightiest Power, That finds no limits but her own pure Will.
"Here then we rest; not fearing for our creed The worst that human reasoning can achieve, To unsettle or perplex it: yet with pain
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