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Celestial King! O let thy presence pass
Before my spirit, and an image fair
As the reflected image in a glass
Doth meet the look of him, who seeks it there,
And owes its being to the gazer's eye.
FROM THE SPANISH.
LAUGH of the mountain!-lyre of bird and tree!
The soul of April, unto whom are born
How without guile thy bosom, all transparent
As the pure crystal, lets the curious eye
Thy secrets scan, thy smooth, round pebbles count! How, without malice murmuring, glides thy current! O sweet simplicity of days gone by!
Thou shun'st the haunts of man, to dwell in limpid fount !
THE CELESTIAL PILOT.
FROM DANTE. PURGATORIO, II.
AND now, behold! as at the approach of morning,
Appeared to me,
would I again could see it!
And when therefrom, I had withdrawn a little
Thereafter on all sides of it appeared,
I knew not what of white, and underneath,
My master yet had uttered not a word,
He cried aloud; Quick, quick, and bow the knee! Behold the Angel of God! fold up thy hands! Henceforward shalt thou see such officers!
See, how he scorns all human arguments,
See how he holds them, pointed straight to heaven,