"All things talked thoughts to him!--The sea went mad, And the wind whined as 'twere in pain, to show Each one his meaning; and _the awful sun_ _Thundered his thoughts into him_; and at night The stars would whisper theirs, the moon sigh hers. The spirit speaks all tongues and understands; Both God's and angels', man's, and all dumb things, Down to an insect's inarticulate hum, And an inaudible organ. And it was The spirit spake to him of everything; And with the moony eyes, like those we see, Thousands on thousands, crowding air in dreams, Looked into him its mighty meanings, till He felt the power fulfil him, as a _cloud_ In every _fibre_ feels the forming wind. He spake the world's one tongue: in earth and heaven There is but one; it is the word of truth. To him the eye let out its hidden meaning; And young and old made their hearts over to him; And thoughts were told to him as unto none, Save one, who heareth, said and unsaid, all. And his heart held these as a grate its gleeds, Where others warm them. _Student._ I would I had known him. _Festus._--All things were inspiration unto him: Wood, wold, hill, field, sea, city, solitude, And crowds and streets, and man where'er he was; And the blue eye of God which is above us; Brook-bounded pine spinnies, where spirits flit; And haunted pits the rustic hurries by, _Where cold wet ghosts sit ringing jingling bells_; Old orchards' leaf-roofed aisles and red-cheeked load; And the blood-coloured tears where yew-trees weep O'er churchyard graves, like murderers remorseful." The same most favourite subject--of the early feelings of a poet--he encounters in another scene of the drama, where he meets the very Muse herself. We prefer to select from these parts, because, though more extraordinary passages might be found elsewhere, yet on those occasions the extraordinary or unsuitable nature of his theme may be thought to have betrayed him into the _violent_ style of writing we have to condemn. Festus meets the Muse in some one of the happy planets that he visits. She speaks in rhyme. We give a part of her address, and part of the answer of Festus. But first we must premise, that the Muse had that morning watched a particular ray of light, as it travelled from the sun to the earth--had "listened" to this ray, and reports what it said upon its unwilling journey downwards. She then sees this ray enter a cottage where a young poet is sitting, and in this original manner introduces her description:--