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ere from our slumbers light we rise to feel
That was, that is, and shall for ever be.
Best emblems of his wisdom, power, and love, ervading all things here around, below, above.
The golden sun has colour'd all the woods!
Fresh views succeed; each brighter than the last! There barren rocks are channell'd by the floods, Here Flora's beauties cannot be surpast. Lausanne, an universe of charms thou hast; There Winter's fetter'd in his icy bed
Steeps rise o'er steeps immeasurably vast→→→ While the rude crags projecting over-head Strike in the stoutest hearts a momentary dread!
Th' ambitious rhododendron climbs the snow,
Pines darken round the mountain's sides, behold, A thousand rills from icy caverns flow,
Rushing o'er rocks irregularly bold,
Where the tenacious sapling keeps its hold: Below, the dark stream with collected force
Still rolling on as it has ever roll'd
Through the wide plains shapes its resistless course, As rude as Ocean's self; as grand as is its source.
Look on these glorious wonders, think of Him,
With gazing on these heights, as we advance
Startling the ear; still at a vast distance
The masses of thick-ribbed ice appal
The soul, as if they form'd the world's extremest wall!
The prospect lengthens, far and far beneath
These, like man's proudest works, may be defaced
Self-planted, by thick-woven shrubs embraced; They with their towering grandeur long will pleaseHow can the spoiler's axe fell forests such as these?
The buoyancy of spirits, the wild hope
Of giving thus to all my feelings scope,
Whose rapid course no sudden squalls annoy;
Is not the soul immortal? Whence its thought?
Its constant aspirations after bliss?
Its vast capacity for good, if nought
But a fortuitous element it is?
Away, nor preach a doctrine such as this. For by yon blessed sun-rise there's a road,
Be but our faith unmoved, we cannot miss,
That leads us to that ever-blest abode;
Where Mind perceives all things, not as here, thro' a cloud.
At Vevai lies our Ludlow, there he dwelt,
The patriot exile; there he loved to roam; There to the Father of all Mercies knelt;
There Freedom woo'd him in her own sweet home,
Presenting to his view an ample tome Wherein was writ (in characters how truc)
That an unyielding spirit doth become Man, when the many govern'd by the few Give to their masters praise that to their God is due.
Yes, the fresh air that circumfused around
Bids us think nobly, mountains, too, sublime The soul; the free-wing'd things that here abound,
Tell us that passive virtue is a crime,
When tyrants would destroy the work of time! Gaze on, thy feelings here will teach thee more Than doubtful legends, or than lying rhyme; Gaze on; and Heaven's magnificence adore! Does not thine heart exult now to its very core?
But gloomy Calvin, how couldst thou prevail
With thy dark doctrines, and ascetic pride, Where the ripe harvest smiles along the vale, Where glows the vintage near Lake Leman's tide, And all was mirth and cheerfulness beside? Why didst thou not to northern regions hie,
Or in some dreary wilderness abide ?
Why spread thy faith where Heav'n and earth deny The truths of thy heart-withering creed of destiny?