(FROM "THE PRELUDE," BOOK XIV.)
In one of those excursions (may they ne'er Fade from remembrance !) through the Northern tracts Of Cambria ranging with a youthful friend, I left Bethgelert's huts at couching-time, And westward took my way, to see the sun Rise, from the top of Snowdon. To the door Of a rude cottage at the mountain's base
We came, and roused the shepherd who attends The adventurous stranger's steps, a trusty guide; Then, cheered by short refreshment, sallied forth.
It was a close, warm, breezeless summer night, Wan, dull, and glaring, with a dripping fog Low-hung and thick that covered all the sky; But, undiscouraged, we began to climb
The mountain-side. The mist soon girt us round, And, after ordinary travellers' talk
With our conductor, pensively we sank
Each into commerce with his private thoughts: Thus did we breast the ascent, and by myself · Was nothing either seen or heard that checked Those musings or diverted, save that once The shepherd's lurcher, who, among the crags, Had to his joy unearthed a hedgehog, teased His coiled-up prey with barkings turbulent. This small adventure, for even such it seemed In that wild place and at the dead of night, Being over and forgotten, on we wound In silence as before. With forehead bent Earthward, as if in opposition set
Against an enemy, I panted up With eager pace, and no less eager thoughts. Thus might we wear a midnight hour away, Ascending at loose distance each from each, And I, as chanced, the foremost of the band; When at my feet the ground appeared to brighten, And with a step or two seemed brighter still; Nor was time given to ask or learn the cause, For instantly a light upon the turf
Fell like a flash, and lo! as I looked up, The Moon hung naked in a firmament Of azure without cloud, and at my feet Rested a silent sea of hoary mist.
A hundred hills their dusky backs upheaved All over this still ocean; and beyond,
Far, far beyond, the solid vapours stretched,
In headlands, tongues, and promontory shapes,
Into the main Atlantic, that appeared
To dwindle, and give up his majesty,
Usurped upon far as the sight could reach.
Not so the ethereal vault; encroachment none Was there, nor loss; only the inferior stars Had disappeared, or shed a fainter light In the clear presence of the full-orbed Moon, Who, from her sovereign elevation, gazed Upon the billowy ocean, as it lay
All meek and silent, save that through a rift Not distant from the shore whereon we stood, A fixed, abysmal, gloomy, breathing-place- Mounted the roar of waters, torrents, streams Innumerable, roaring with one voice! Heard over earth and sea, and, in that hour, For so it seemed, felt by the starry heavens.
When into air had partially dissolved
That vision, given to spirits of the night
And three chance human wanderers, in calm thought Reflected, it appeared to me the type
Of a majestic intellect, its acts
And its possessions, what it has and craves,
What in itself it is, and would become.
There I beheld the emblem of a mind That feeds upon infinity, that broods Over the dark abyss, intent to hear Its voices issuing forth to silent light
In one continuous stream; a mind sustained
By recognitions of transcendent power,
In sense conducting to ideal form,
In soul of more than mortal privilege.
One function, above all, of such a mind
Had Nature shadowed there, by putting forth, 'Mid circumstances awful and sublime, That mutual domination which she loves
To exert upon the face of outward things,
So moulded, joined, abstracted, so endowed With interchangeable supremacy,
That men, least sensitive, see, hear, perceive, And cannot choose but feel. The power, Acknowledge when thus moved, which Nature thus To bodily sense exhibits, is the express Resemblance of that glorious faculty
That higher minds bear with them as their own.
This is the very spirit in which they deal With the whole compass of the universe: They from their native selves can send abroad Kindred mutations; for themselves create A like existence; and, whene'er it dawns Created for them, catch it, or are caught
By its inevitable mastery,
Like angels stopped upon the wing by sound Of harmony from Heaven's remotest spheres. Them the enduring and the transient both Serve to exhalt; they build up greatest things From least suggestions; ever on the watch, Willing to work and to be wrought upon, They need not extraordinary calls
To rouse them; in a world of life they live,
By sensible impressions not enthralled,
But by their quickening impulse made more prompt To hold fit converse with the spiritual world,
And with the generations of mankind
Spread over time, past, present, and to come, Age after age, till Time shall be no more. Such minds are truly from the Deity,
For they are Powers; and hence the highest bliss That flesh can know is theirs - the consciousness Of Whom they are, habitually infused
Through every image and through every thought, And all affections by communion raised
From earth to heaven, from human to divine; Hence endless occupation for the Soul, Whether discursive or intuitive;
Hence cheerfulness for acts of daily life,
Emotions which best foresight need not fear, Most worthy then of trust when most intense. Hence, amid ills that vex and wrongs that crush Our hearts if here the words of Holy Writ May with fit reverence be applied
Which passeth understanding, that repose In moral judgments which from this pure source Must come, or will by man be sought in vain.
Were fellow-travellers in this gloomy Pass, And with them did we journey several hours At a slow step. The immeasurable height Of woods decaying, never to be decayed, The stationary blasts of waterfalls, And in the narrow rent, at every turn, Winds thwarting winds bewildered and forlorn, The torrents shooting from the clear blue sky, The rocks that muttered close upon our ears, Black, drizzling crags that spake by the wayside As if a voice were in them, the sick sight And giddy prospect of the raving stream, The unfettered clouds and region of the heavens, Tumult and peace, the darkness and the light – Were all like workings of one mind, the features Of the same face, blossoms upon one tree, Characters of the great Apocalypse,
The types and symbols of Eternity,
Of first, and last, and midst, and without end.
MIST OPENING IN THE HILLS.
(FROM THE EXCURSION," BOOK II.)
So was he lifted gently from the ground,
And with their freight homeward the shepherds moved Through the dull mist, I following when a step,
A single step, that freed me from the skirts
Of the blind vapour, opened to my view
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