| |
| I STOOD on Brocken’s 1 sovran height, and saw | |
| Woods crowding upon woods, hills over hills, | |
| A surging scene, and only limited | |
| By the blue distance. Heavily my way | |
| Downward I dragged through fir groves evermore, | 5 |
| Where bright green moss heaves in sepulchral forms | |
| Speckled with sunshine; and, but seldom heard, | |
| The sweet bird’s song became an hollow sound: | |
| And the breeze, murmuring indivisibly, | |
| Preserved its solemn murmur most distinct | 10 |
| From many a note of many a waterfall, | |
| And the brook’s chatter; ’mid whose islet-stones | |
| The dingy kidling with its tinkling bell | |
| Leaped frolicsome, or old romantic goat | |
| Sat, his white beard slow waving. I moved on | 15 |
| In low and languid mood: for I had found | |
| That outward forms, the loftiest, still receive | |
| Their finer influence from the Life within;— | |
| Fair cyphers else: fair, but of import vague | |
| Or unconcerning, where the heart not finds | 20 |
| History or prophecy of friend, or child, | |
| Or gentle maid, our first and early love, | |
| Or father, or the venerable name | |
| Of our adored country! O thou Queen, | |
| Thou delegated Deity of Earth, | 25 |
| O dear, dear England! how my longing eye | |
| Turned westward, shaping in the steady clouds | |
Thy sands and high white cliffs!
My native Land! | |
| Filled with the thought of thee this heart was proud, | |
| Yea, mine eyes swam with tears: that all the view | 30 |
| From sovran Brocken, woods and woody hills, | |
| Floated away, like a departing dream, | |
| Feeble and dim! Stranger, these impulses | |
| Blame thou not lightly; nor will I profane | |
| With hasty judgment or injurious doubt, | 35 |
| That man’s sublimer spirit, who can feel | |
| That God is everywhere! the God who framed | |
| Mankind to be one mighty family, | |
| Himself our Father, and the World our Home. | |
