Belov'd of old, and that delightful time
When all alone, for many a summer's day,
I wander'd thro' your calm recesses, led
In silence by some pow'rful hand unseen.
Nor will I e'er forget you; nor shall e'er
The graver tasks of manhood, or th' advice
Of vulgar wisdom, move me to disclaim
Those studies which possess'd me in the dawn
Of life, and fix'd the colour of my mind
For ev'ry future year; whence even now
From sleep I rescue the clear hours of morn,
And while the world around lies overwhelm'd
In idle darkness, am alive to thoughts
Of honourable fame, of truth divine
Or moral, and of minds to virtue won
By the sweet magic of harmonious verse,
The themes which now expect us.
On gen❜ral habits, and on arts which grow
Spontaneous in the minds of all mankind,
Hath dwelt our argument; and how self-taught,
Tho' seldom conscious of their own employ,
In Nature's or in Fortune's changeful scene,
Men learn to judge of beauty, and acquire
Those forms set up as idols in the soul
For love and zealous praise. Yet indistinct
In vulgar bosoms and unnotic'd lie
These pleasing stores, unless the casual force
Of things external prompt the heedless mind
To recognize her wealth. But some there are
Conscious of Nature, and the rule which man
O'er Nature holds; some who, within themselves
Retiring from the trivial scenes of chance
And momentary passion, can at will
Call up these fair exemplars of the mind,
Review their features, scan the secret laws
Which bind them to each other, and display,
By forms, or sounds, or colours, to the sense
Of all the world, their latent charms display;
E'en as in Nature's frame (if such a word,
If such a word, so bold, may from the lips
Of man proceed) as in the outward frame
Of things the Great Artificer pourtrays
His own immense idea. Various names
These among mortals bear, as various signs
They use, and by peculiar organs speak
To human sense. There are who, by the flight
Of air thro' tubes with moving stops distinct,
Or by extended chords in measure taught
To vibrate, can assemble pow'rful sounds,
Expressing ev'ry temper of the mind
From ev'ry cause, and charming all the soul
With passion void of care: others mean-time
The rugged mass of metal, wood, or stone,
Patiently taming, or with easier hand
Describing lines, and with more ample scope
Uniting colours, can to gen'ral sight
Produce those permanent and perfect forms,
Those characters of heroes and of gods,
Which from the crude materials of the worlds
Their own high minds created. But the chief
Are poets, eloquent men, who dwell on earth
To clothe whate'er the soul admires or loves
With language and with numbers: hence to these
A field is open'd wide as Nature's sphere,
Nay wider; various as the sudden acts
Of human wit, and vast as the demands
Of human will. The bard nor length, nor depth,
Nor place, nor form, controuls. To eyes, to ears,
To ev'ry organ of the copious mind,
He offereth all its treasures. Him the hours,
The seasons him, obey; and changeful Time
Sees him at will keep measure with his flight,
At will outstrip it. To enhance his toil,
He summoneth from th' uttermost extent
Of things which God hath taught him ev'ry form
Auxiliar, ev'ry pow'r, and all beside
Excludes imperious. His prevailing hand
Gives to corporeal essence life and sense,
And ev'ry stately function of the soul.
The soul itself to him obsequious lies,
Like matter's passive heap, and, as he wills,
To reason and affection he assigns
Their just alliances, their just degrees;
Whence his peculiar honours, whence the race
Of men who people his delightful world,
Men genuine and according to themselves,
Transcend as far th' uncertain sons of earth,
As earth itself to his delightful world
The palm of spotless beauty doth resign.
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