And ever thus may spirit be refined; For what is Godhead, but consummate mind? Or Heaven, but one surpassing realm of thought, With each perfection of His wisdom fraught ? Not what we have, but what our natures feel, By truth unfolded for sublimest zeal, Developes all which makes our being great, And links a human to immortal state. Than this, could fancy weave a darker curse?— That man is meaner than the universe! Creation is Eternal Will, express'd In forms of matter which were deem'd the best ; Within, is spirit; all without, we know Forms the frail vision of a fleeting show: Nothing so grand amid creation found As That which thinketh, when we gaze around! Though bright the Earth, and beautiful her frame, From thought divine her fair existence came; Then do we not with Deity unite, In fixing Mind the centre of delight, From whose pure depth the rays of reason dart, O'er Nature shine, and half her hues impart? For thus, the Spirit on her wing sublime Above the reach of earth, and roar of time, In that deep energy may proudly share Which featur'd worlds, and all that formeth there! If then from Intellect alone arise C The noblest worth a Nation's heart can prize, In tow'ry dimness, gothic, vast, or grand, Behold her Palaces of learning stand! When day was dying into sunset glow I first beheld them in their beauteous show, The massy glories of each gorgeous pile, And thought-how noble is our native Isle ! A silent worship o'er my spirit came, While feelings, far too exquisite for name, Exultingly began their rapt controul, And flutter'd like faint music in the soul !— Where Greatness trod, is hallow'd ground to me; There can I lift the heart, and bow the knee, Awake the Past to all her living might, |