Stanzas

Autorem wiersza jest Edgar Allan Poe

How often we forget all time, when lone
Admiring Nature`s universal throne;
Her woods- her wilds- her mountains- the intense
Reply of HERS to OUR intelligence! [BYRON, The Island.]

I

In youth have I known one with whom the Earth
In secret communing held- as he with it,
In daylight, and in beauty from his birth:
Whose fervid, flickering torch of life was lit
From the sun and stars, whence he had drawn forth
A passionate light- such for his spirit was fit-
And yet that spirit knew not, in the hour
Of its own fervor what had o`er it power.


II

Perhaps it may be that my mind is wrought
To a fever by the moonbeam that hangs o`er,
But I will half believe that wild light fraught
With more of sovereignty than ancient lore
Hath ever told- or is it of a thought
The unembodied essence, and no more,
That with a quickening spell doth o`er us pass
As dew of the night-time o`er the summer grass?

III

Doth o`er us pass, when, as th` expanding eye
To the loved object- so the tear to the lid
Will start, which lately slept in apathy?
And yet it need not be- (that object) hid
From us in life- but common- which doth lie
Each hour before us- but then only, bid
With a strange sound, as of a harp-string broken,
To awake us- `Tis a symbol and a token

IV

Of what in other worlds shall be- and given
In beauty by our God, to those alone
Who otherwise would fall from life and Heaven
Drawn by their heart`s passion, and that tone,
That high tone of the spirit which hath striven,
Tho` not with Faith- with godliness- whose throne
With desperate energy `t hath beaten down;
Wearing its own deep feeling as a crown.


Czytaj dalej: Sen we śnie