Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne,
The cherub Contemplation;
And the mute Silence hist along,
'Less Philomel will deign a song,
In her sweetest saddest plight,
Smoothing the rugged brow of Night,
While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke
Gently o'er the accustomed 1 oak.
Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly,
Most musical, most melancholy !
Thee, chantress, oft the woods among
I woo, to hear thy even-song;
And missing thee, I walk unseen
On the dry, smooth-shaven green,
To behold the wandering Moon
Riding near her highest noon,
Like one that had been led astray
Through the heaven's wide pathless way,
And oft, as if her head she bowed,
Stooping through a fleecy cloud.
Oft on a plat of rising ground
I hear the far-off curfew sound,
Over some wide-watered shore
Swinging slow with sullen roar ;
Or, if the air will not permit,
Some still removèd place will fit,
Where glowing embers through the room
Teach light to counterfeit a gloom,
Far from all resort of mirth,
Save the cricket on the hearth,
Or the bellman's drowsy charm
To bless the doors from nightly harm.
1 The nightingale is said to sing on the same tree for weeks together.
Or let my lamp at midnight hour
Be seen in some high lonely tower,
Where I may oft out-watch the Bear
With thrice-great Hermes, or unsphere 2
The spirit of Plato to unfold
What worlds or what vast regions hold
The immortal mind that hath forsook
Her mansion in this fleshly nook;
And of those dæmons that are found
In fire, air, flood, or under ground,
Whose power hath a true consent
With planet or with element.
Sometime let gorgeous 3 Tragedy
In sceptred pall 4 come sweeping by,
Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' 5 line,
Or the tale of Troy 5 divine,
Or what (though rare) of later age
Ennobled hath the buskin'd 6 stage.
But, O sad Virgin, that thy power
Might raise Musæus 7 from his bower,
Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing
Such notes as, warbled to the string,
1 The Egyptian Thoth, identified with Hermes as "Hermes Trismegistus" (thrice-great) being Prophet, Sage, and King. Many philosophical works were attributed to him.
2 i.e. Bring him down from where he lives
'In regions mild of calm and serene air."
3 Tragedy had to do with exalted themes and personages.
4 Lat. palla, the outer garment.
5 The three favourite subjects of Greek Tragedy.
6 The buskin was the high-heeled boot (Lat. cothurnus) worn by tragic actors.
7 A Thracian bard, said to be the son of Orpheus.
Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek,
And made Hell grant what Love did seek!
Or call up him that left half-told
The story of Cambuscan bold,
Of Camball and of Algarsife,
And who had Canacé to wife,
That owned the virtuous ring and glass;
And of the wondrous horse of brass
On which the Tartar king did ride! 1
And if aught else great bards 2 beside
In sage and solemn tunes have sung
Of tourneys and of trophies hung,
Of forests and enchantments drear,
Where more is meant than meets the ear!
Thus, Night, oft see me in thy pale career,
Till civil-suited 3 Morn appear,
Not tricked and frounced as she was wont
With the Attic Boy 5 to hunt,
But kerchiefed in a comely cloud
While rocking winds are piping loud;
Or ushered with a shower still,
When the gust hath blown his fill,
Ending on the rustling leaves,
With minute drops from off the eaves.
And when the sun begins to fling
His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring
To arched walks of twilight groves,
And shadows brown that Sylvan loves
Of pine or monumental oak,
Where the rude axe, with heavèd stroke,
1 See Chaucer's unfinished Squire's Tale.
2 Ariosto, Tasso, Spenser.
5 Cephalus, beloved by the Dawn.
Was never heard the nymphs to daunt,
Or fright them from their hallowed haunt
There in close covert by some brook
Where no profaner eye may look,
Hide me from Day's garish eye,
While the bee with honeyed thigh,
That at her flowery work doth sing,
And the waters murmuring,
With such consort 1 as they keep,
Entice the dewy-feathered Sleep;
And let some strange mysterious dream
Wave at his wings in airy stream
Of lively portraiture displayed,
Softly on my eyelids laid;
And, as I wake, sweet music breathe
Above, about, or underneath,
Sent by some spirit to mortals good,
Or the unseen Genius of the wood.
But let my due feet never fail
To walk the studious cloister's pale,
And love the high embowèd roof,
With antique pillars massy proof,
And storied windows richly dight,
Casting a dim religious light.
There let the pealing organ blow
To the full-voiced choir below,
In service high and anthems clear,
As may with sweetness, through mine ear,
Dissolve me into ecstasies,2
And bring all Heaven before mine eyes.
1 Concert. The right form of the word will depend on its derivation, which is variously given as consortium (Kitchin), conserere (Skeat), and concertare (Littré).
2 In its full sense, of a condition of mind which has lost all consciousness of self and of external objects.
And may at last my weary age
Find out the peaceful hermitage,
The hairy gown and mossy cell;
Where I may sit and rightly spell
Of every star that heaven doth shew,
And every herb that sips the dew;
Till old experience do attain
To something like prophetic strain.
These pleasures, Melancholy, give,
And I with thee will choose to live.
You see this dog; it was but yesterday
I mused forgetful of his presence here
Till thought on thought drew downward tear on tear:
When from the pillow where wet-cheeked I lay
A head as hairy as Faunus thrust its way
Right sudden against my face, two golden-clear
Great eyes astonished mine, a drooping ear
Did flap me on either cheek to dry the spray !
I started first as some Arcadian
Amazed by goatly god in twilight grove,
But as the bearded vision closelier ran
My tears off, I knew Flush, and rose above
Surprise and sadness,—thanking the true Pan
Who by low creatures leads to heights of love.
E. B. BROWNING
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