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INTELLECTUAL.

THOUGHT.

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Now I close my eyes, my ears,
And creation disappears;
Yet if I but speak the word,
All creation is restored.
Or-more wonderful-within,
New creations do begin;

Hues more bright and forms more rare,

Than reality doth wear,
Flash across my inward sense,
Born of the mind's omnipotence.

Soul! that all informest, say!
Shall these glories pass away?
Will those planets cease to blaze
When these eyes no longer gaze?
And the life of things be o'er,
When these pulses beat no more?

Thought! that in me works and lives,

Life to all things living gives,
Art thou not thyself, perchance,
But the universe in trance?
A reflection inly flung

By that world thou fanciedst sprung
From thyself, thyself a dream,
Of the world's thinking thou the
theme?

Be it thus, or be thy birth
From a source above the earth, -
Be thou matter, be thou mind,
In thee alone myself I find,
And through thee alone, for me,

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Of fitting objects be not so inflamed.

How much, then, were this kingdom's main soul maimed

To want this great inflamer of all powers

That move in human souls! All realms but yours

Are honored with them, and hold blest that State

That have his works to read and contemplate,

In which humanity to her height is raised;

Which all the world, yet none enough hath praised.

Seas, earth, and heaven, he did in verse comprise,

Outsung the Muses, and did equalize

Their King Apollo; being so far from cause

Of princes' light thoughts, that their gravest laws

May find stuff to be fashioned by his lines.

Through all the pomp of kingdoms still he shines,

And graceth all his gracers. Then let lie

Your lutes and viols, and more loftily

Make the heroics of your Homer sung;

To drums and trumpets set his angel

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