“ Thou, dear enthusiast, sayest,1
None can like nature preach ;2
That in her fane thou prayest ;3
That woods and rills can teach :4
Yes, more than e’er Ilyssus5
Taught sages by his stream ;6
Or groves beside Cephissus,7
That waved o’er Plato’s dream.8
“ Then leave these vales below thee ;9
Come, stretch thine eagle eye,10
And nature more will shew thee11
Of him thou canst not spy.12
Gaze on the fire-stream, pouring13
Down Etna’s viny steep ;14
Go where the billow’s roaring15
Is loudest on the deep.16
“ Where earthquakes mutter deadly,17
And domes and turrets reel ;18
Where camel-bells pause dreadly,19
Quench’d in the hot Samiel ;20
Where thunders roll before him,21
And where his lightnings shine,22
Bow, tremble, and adore him ;23
For this—this God is thine.24
“ Yet see, through clouds storm-broken,25
The dove-borne olive bough !26
Take thou, and bind that token27
Around thine awe-struck brow.28
Then where his bow he spreadeth,29
Behold him dark no more ;30
Him, who the wild waves treadeth,31
Seek now on yon green shore.32
“ Around his footsteps springing,33
What wreaths embalm the air !34
While hills break forth in singing,35
Go, trace those footsteps there :36
When morn’s first beam from slumbers37
Awakes the dewy flowers ;38
Or with that bird whose numbers39
Charm starry midnight hours.40
“ To Him let rapture wing thee,41
From heights where eagles dwell ;42
Or let the glad bee bring thee43
Home to her thymy cell.44
Where’er thou wilt, observe him45
In things that fairest shine ;46
Then, joyful, fly to serve him,47
For He—that God—is thine.”48