Verse > William Wordsworth > Complete Poetical Works
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POEMS

COMPOSED OR SUGGESTED DURING A TOUR IN THE SUMMER OF 1833

XXX. CAVE OF STAFFA

          YE shadowy Beings, that have rights and claims
          In every cell of Fingal's mystic Grot,
          Where are ye? Driven or venturing to the spot,
          Our fathers glimpses caught of your thin Frames,
          And, by your mien and bearing knew your names;
          And they could hear 'his' ghostly song who trod
          Earth, till the flesh lay on him like a load,
          While he struck his desolate harp without hopes or aims.
          Vanished ye are, but subject to recall;
          Why keep 'we' else the instincts whose dread law            10
          Ruled here of yore, till what men felt they saw,
          Not by black arts but magic natural!
          If eyes be still sworn vassals of belief,
          Yon light shapes forth a Bard, that shade a Chief.


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