The Daemon of the World | Page 2

longer was distinguished; earth
Appeared a vast
and shadowy sphere, suspended
In the black concave of heaven

With the sun's cloudless orb,
Whose rays of rapid light
Parted
around the chariot's swifter course,
And fell like ocean's feathery
spray
Dashed from the boiling surge
Before a vessel's prow.
The magic car moved on.
Earth's distant orb appeared
The smallest
light that twinkles in the heavens,
Whilst round the chariot's way

Innumerable systems widely rolled,
And countless spheres diffused

An ever varying glory.
It was a sight of wonder! Some were horned,

And like the moon's argentine crescent hung
In the dark dome of
heaven; some did shed
A clear mild beam like Hesperus, while the
sea
Yet glows with fading sunlight; others dashed
Athwart the night
with trains of bickering fire,
Like sphered worlds to death and ruin
driven;
Some shone like stars, and as the chariot passed
Bedimmed
all other light.
Spirit of Nature! here
In this interminable wilderness
Of worlds, at
whose involved immensity
Even soaring fancy staggers,
Here is thy
fitting temple.
Yet not the lightest leaf
That quivers to the passing
breeze
Is less instinct with thee,-
Yet not the meanest worm.
That
lurks in graves and fattens on the dead,
Less shares thy eternal breath.

Spirit of Nature! thou
Imperishable as this glorious scene,
Here is
thy fitting temple.
If solitude hath ever led thy steps

To the shore of the immeasurable
sea,
And thou hast lingered there
Until the sun's broad orb

Seemed resting on the fiery line of ocean,
Thou must have marked
the braided webs of gold
That without motion hang
Over the
sinking sphere:
Thou must have marked the billowy mountain clouds,


Edged with intolerable radiancy,
Towering like rocks of jet

Above the burning deep:
And yet there is a moment
When the sun's
highest point
Peers like a star o'er ocean's western edge,
When
those far clouds of feathery purple gleam
Like fairy lands girt by
some heavenly sea:
Then has thy rapt imagination soared
Where in
the midst of all existing things
The temple of the mightiest Daemon
stands.
Yet not the golden islands
That gleam amid yon flood of purple light,

Nor the feathery curtains
That canopy the sun's resplendent couch,

Nor the burnished ocean waves
Paving that gorgeous dome,
So
fair, so wonderful a sight
As the eternal temple could afford.
The
elements of all that human thought
Can frame of lovely or sublime,
did join
To rear the fabric of the fane, nor aught
Of earth may
image forth its majesty.
Yet likest evening's vault that faery hall,
As
heaven low resting on the wave it spread
Its floors of flashing light,

Its vast and azure dome;
And on the verge of that obscure abyss

Where crystal battlements o'erhang the gulf
Of the dark world, ten
thousand spheres diffuse
Their lustre through its adamantine gates.
The magic car no longer moved;
The Daemon and the Spirit

Entered the eternal gates.
Those clouds of aery gold
That slept in
glittering billows
Beneath the azure canopy,
With the ethereal
footsteps trembled not;
While slight and odorous mists
Floated to
strains of thrilling melody
Through the vast columns and the pearly
shrines.
The Daemon and the Spirit
Approached the overhanging battlement,

Below lay stretched the boundless universe!

There, far as the
remotest line
That limits swift imagination's flight.
Unending orbs
mingled in mazy motion,
Immutably fulfilling
Eternal Nature's law.

Above, below, around,
The circling systems formed
A
wilderness of harmony.
Each with undeviating aim
In eloquent
silence through the depths of space
Pursued its wondrous way.--

Awhile the Spirit paused in ecstasy.
Yet soon she saw, as the vast
spheres swept by,
Strange things within their belted orbs appear.

Like animated frenzies, dimly moved
Shadows, and skeletons, and
fiendly shapes,
Thronging round human graves, and o'er the dead

Sculpturing records for each memory
In verse, such as malignant
gods pronounce,
Blasting the hopes of men, when heaven and hell

Confounded burst in ruin o'er the world:
And they did build vast
trophies, instruments
Of murder, human bones, barbaric gold,
Skins
torn from living men, and towers of skulls
With sightless holes
gazing on blinder heaven,
Mitres, and crowns, and brazen chariots
stained
With blood, and scrolls of mystic wickedness,
The sanguine
codes of venerable crime.
The likeness of a throned king came by.

When these had passed, bearing upon his brow
A threefold crown; his
countenance was calm.
His eye severe and cold; but his right hand

Was charged with bloody coin, and he did gnaw
By fits, with secret
smiles, a human heart
Concealed beneath his robe; and motley shapes,

A multitudinous throng, around him knelt.
With bosoms bare, and
bowed heads, and false looks
Of true submission, as the sphere rolled
by.
Brooking no eye to witness their foul shame,
Which human
hearts must feel, while human tongues
Tremble to speak, they did
rage horribly,
Breathing in self-contempt fierce blasphemies

Against the Daemon of the World, and high
Hurling their armed
hands where the pure Spirit,
Serene and inaccessibly secure,
Stood
on an isolated pinnacle.
The flood of ages combating below,
The
depth of the unbounded universe
Above, and all around
Necessity's
unchanging harmony.
PART 2.
O happy Earth! reality of Heaven!
To which those restless powers
that ceaselessly

Throng through the human universe aspire;
Thou
consummation of all mortal hope!
Thou glorious prize of
blindly-working will!
Whose rays, diffused throughout all space and

time,
Verge to one point and blend for ever there:
Of purest spirits
thou pure dwelling-place!
Where care and sorrow, impotence and
crime,
Languor, disease, and ignorance dare not come:
O happy
Earth, reality of Heaven!
Genius has seen