21.

I could, as then I thought, never know more
Of dim, foreboding, and foreclosing pain,
Than then I knew: yet were this anguish o'er,
And I should thus be visited again,

This little stone,-though hope's diminish'd loreTo this were circumscribed-would breathe this strain

66

Despair, when first thou knewest this, was with thee!

"Thou hast since hoped. What has been, still may

be!

22.

This looking forward, then the little all

Of hope that I had left, this dim and drear
Presentiment, that something might befall;
And that futurity of all but fear

Was not quite barren-if I such may call
Comfort-my only comfort did appear.-
Yet has that stone in after days of scath
Suggested many a haunting of meek faith.

23.

So the elected* Israelites of old,

By God commanded, when they reached thy shore,

* Joshua, chapter the fourth.

O'erflowing Jordan, each one as we are told,
Stones of memorial on their shoulders bore.
These were to be, as future ages rolled,

To distant generations evermore

A sign, whence they the hallowed spot might mark, Where Jordan's waves retreated from the ark.

24.

Thus, as a symbol of past gone despair
O'ercome, in present sorrow may avail;
Or to the mind suggestions may repair
Of wisdom thence, when carnal joys assail:
So may a symbol of past joy declare

Tidings of hope, when hope's resources fail;
So by a symbol of past pleasure fled,

May we in pleasure be admonished.

25.

But this is foreign to my theme! The thought
Inspiring it was of that feeling dim

Which every soul possesses, when by aught

It is impressed, which seems as 'twere to trim

The lamp of life afresh, since it hath caught

(As from the live coal which the Seraphim On th' altar placed, Isaiah caught his function) From its discovery a vital unction.

26.

Whence is it that the meanest forms we hallow,
Of utensils, for daily life designed?-
Whence is it that all men, save those who wallow
In sensual brutishness, and unrefined
Grovelling indulgences, in a dim halo

Of sacred radiance see those shapes enshrined Which speak of other days, and friends long dead ?— Whence, but from feeling, is such reverence fed,

27.

That they the present with the past connect?-
So much these instincts in some hearts preside,
That forms which cannot by their aid be decked,
Whate'er their worth, whate'er their costly pride,
From them can challenge nothing but neglect:
Yet, on the other hand, have they descried

The meanest utensil a parent used,

With what intense delight is it perused!—

28.

Some see in forms little to challenge praise,
Save as they're mute interpreters of love :
Thence many, without doubt, may wildly raise

A superstitious structure, which would prove

Fatal to nobler aims: since where their gaze

Was thus allured, they never would remove

Their thoughts to abstract themes :-such influences, Changed Christ's pure laws to purveyors for the

senses.

29.

But still subordinate to nobler things,

Just in proportion will such instinct dwell
In souls, as they possess that power which flings
O'er lifeless forms a consecrating spell!-

Without the fire, which, from such instinct springs,
Like seedless husk, and unallotted shell

Were all life's objects! What were scents, forms, hues,

Did moral feeling not her aid infuse?

30.

The more, in all respects, mere form is merged
In moral feeling, more is spiritualized

* It need be scarcely here said, that in these lines we refer to the Roman Catholic rites; in which, by means of pictures, statues, censers, perfumes, music, and architectural ornament, there is an attempt inade as it were to excite the feelings through the iustrumentality of sensuous symbols-in which, truths the most abstract, are, as it were, embodied, and the very mysteries of religion typified by means of physical hieroglyphics.-This religion certainly tends to the consecration of sensible objects, but to secure this end, does it not lower the sublimity of immaterial ones?

The sentiment with which mute shapes are charged,

Less are they likely to be idolized

By physical attachment, more enlarged

Will they from "th' entire point"* be enfran

chised:

The more we love form's accidents, the less
On their base bullion shall we lay a stress.

31.

We

say

the finest soul (but mind we say
This only when nought else doth interfere
Of higher pressure) will the most array
Mute forms with an ideal atmosphere,
Which gives them to the heart a moral sway!-
There are we know of stoic mood severe,
Who superstitious such devotion deem !-
The muse is not for them whate'er her theme!

32.

This is a natural instinct. Homer read

Or Virgil; how do they with care describe The helmet, shield, or trappings of the steed Belonging to the chief of each bold tribe ?

Love is not love,

When it is mingled with regards that stand

Aloof from th' entire point.

Shakspeare.