Page:The Midsummer Night.djvu/37



Lo! I pour out on thee this mystic drop,

And thro' thy bosom inspirations throng

Dazzling, tumultuous! Thoughts, whose lofty flight

Shall touch all matters, penetrate them all,

Or boldly leap o'er ev'ry dim abyss—

Thy genius shall transport thee far beyond

All circumscribing limits.—Deep beneath

In the earth's bowels, shall thy spirit search

Her magic secrets—then rebound aloft,

And take its flight to heaven.—Thou shalt know

A strange delight, when midnight tempests roar,

When storms uproot the huge Oaks from the hill,

And hurl them crashing to the vale below.—

On nature's terrors, thou with fearless joy

Shalt gaze; thy heart throb with wild ecstacy,

When on the precipice's giddy brink

Thou standest, marking where the torrent boils,

Roaring and surging, fathoms under thee!

Oh sing, as none before thee ever sung,