Remains in Verse and Prose [Ed by H Hallam]

Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: 20 TIMBUCTOO. Be Yarrow stream unseen, unknown; It must or we shall rue it; We have a vision of our own: Ah why should we undo it.?Wordsworth. There was a land, which, far from human sight, Old Ocean compassed with his numerous waves, In the lone West. Tenacious of her right, Imagination decked those...
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Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: 20 TIMBUCTOO. Be Yarrow stream unseen, unknown; It must or we shall rue it; We have a vision of our own: Ah why should we undo it.?Wordsworth. There was a land, which, far from human sight, Old Ocean compassed with his numerous waves, In the lone West. Tenacious of her right, Imagination decked those unknown caves, And vacant forests, and clear peaks of ice With a transcendent beauty; that which saves From the world's blight our primal sympathies, Still in man's heart, as some familiar shrine, Feeding the tremulous lamp of love that never dies. Poets have loved that land, and dared to twine Eound its existence memories of old time, When the good reigned; and none in grief did pine.Sages, and all who owned the might sublime To impress their thought upon the face of things, And teach a nation's spirit how to climb, Spake of long-lost Atlantis, when the springs Of clear Ilissus or the Tusculan bower Were welcoming the pure rest which Wisdom brings To her elect, the marvellous calm of power. Oft, too, some maiden, garlanding her brow With Baian roses, at eve's mystic hour, Has gazed on the sun's path, as he sank low, I' th' awful main, behind Inarime; f And with clasped hands, and gleaming eye, Shalt thou, First-born of light, endure in the flat sea Such intermission of thy life intense ? Thou lordly one, is there no home for thee ? A Youth took up the voice; Thou speedest hence, Beautiful orb, but not to death or sleep, That feel we; worlds invisible to sense, The legend of the lost continent Atlantis is so well known, and its derivation from an early knowledge of America seems so natural and probable, that, had not this Poem been pretty generally censured for its obscurity, I should have thought a note on t...