Of those that gaze upon the noonday Sun. Girt with a Zone of flashing gold beneath His breast, and compass’d round about his brow With triple arch of everchanging bows, And circled with the glory of living light And alternation of all hues, he stood. “O child of man, why muse you here alone Upon the Mountain, on the dreams of old Which fill’d the Earth with passing loveliness, Which flung strange music on the howling winds, And odours rapt from remote Paradise? Thy sense is clogg’d with dull mortality, Thy spirit fetter’d with the bond of clay: Open thine eye and see.” I look’d, but not Upon his face, for it was wonderful With its exceeding brightness, and the light Of the great angel mind which look’d from out The starry glowing of his restless eyes. I felt my soul grow mighty, and my spirit With supernatural excitation bound Within me, and my mental eye grew large With such a vast circumference of thought, That in my vanity I seem’d to stand Upon the outward verge and bound alone Of full beautitude. Each failing sense As with a momentary flash of light Grew thrillingly distinct and keen. I saw The smallest grain that dappled the dark Earth, The indistinctest atom in deep air, The Moon’s white cities, and the opal width Of her small glowing lakes, her silver heights Unvisited with dew of vagrant cloud, And the unsounded, undescended depth Of her black hollows. The clear Galaxy Shorn of its hoary lustre, wonderful, Distinct and vivid with sharp points of light Blaze within blaze, an unimagin’d depth And harmony of planet-girded Suns And moon-encircled planets, wheel in wheel, Arch’d the wan Sapphire. Nay, the hum of men, Or other things talking in unknown tongues, And notes of busy life in distant worlds Beat like a far wave on my anxious ear. A maze of piercing, trackless, thrilling thoughts Involving and embracing each with each Rapid as fire, inextricably link’d, Expanding momently with every sight And sound which struck the palpitating sense, The issue of strong impulse, hurried through The riv’n rapt brain: as when in some large lake From pressure of descendant crags, which lapse Disjointed, crumbling from their parent slope At slender interval, the level calm Is ridg’d with restless and increasing spheres Which break upon each other, each th’ effect Of separate impulse, but more fleet and strong Than its precursor, till the eye in vain Amid the wild unrest of swimming shade Dappled with hollow and alternate rise Of interpenetrated arc, would scan Definite round.