dauntless and the good, who dare to hurl
     Defiance at his throne, girt tho' it be                     315
     With Death's omnipotence. Thou hast beheld
     His empire, o'er the present and the past;
     It was a desolate sight—now gaze on mine,
     Futurity. Thou hoary giant Time,
     Render thou up thy half-devoured babes,—                    320
     And from the cradles of eternity,
     Where millions lie lulled to their portioned sleep
     By the deep murmuring stream of passing things,
     Tear thou that gloomy shroud.—Spirit, behold
     Thy glorious destiny!
       The Spirit saw                                            325
     The vast frame of the renovated world
     Smile in the lap of Chaos, and the sense
     Of hope thro' her fine texture did suffuse
     Such varying glow, as summer evening casts
     On undulating clouds and deepening lakes.                   330
     Like the vague sighings of a wind at even,
     That wakes the wavelets of the slumbering sea
     And dies on the creation of its breath,
     And sinks and rises, fails and swells by fits,
     Was the sweet stream of thought that with wild motion       335
     Flowed o'er the Spirit's human sympathies.
     The mighty tide of thought had paused awhile,
     Which from the Daemon now like Ocean's stream
     Again began to pour.—
       To me is given
     The wonders of the human world to keep—                     340
     Space, matter, time and mind—let the sight
     Renew and strengthen all thy failing hope.
     All things are recreated, and the flame
     Of consentaneous love inspires all life:
     The fertile bosom of the earth gives suck                   345
     To myriads, who still grow beneath her care,
     Rewarding her with their pure perfectness:
     The balmy breathings of the wind inhale
     Her virtues, and diffuse them all abroad:
     Health floats amid the gentle atmosphere,                   350
     Glows in the fruits, and mantles on the stream;
     No storms deform the beaming brow of heaven,
     Nor scatter in the freshness of its pride
     The foliage of the undecaying trees;
     But fruits are ever ripe, flowers ever fair,                355
     And Autumn proudly bears her matron grace,
     Kindling a flush on the fair cheek of Spring,
     Whose virgin bloom beneath the ruddy fruit
     Reflects its tint and blushes into love.

       The habitable earth is full of bliss;                     360
     Those wastes of frozen billows that were hurled
     By everlasting snow-storms round the poles,
     Where matter dared not vegetate nor live,
     But ceaseless frost round the vast solitude
     Bound its broad zone of stillness, are unloosed;            365
     And fragrant zephyrs there from spicy isles
     Ruffle the placid ocean-deep, that rolls
     Its broad, bright surges to the sloping sand,
     Whose roar is wakened into echoings sweet
     To murmur through the heaven-breathing groves               370
     And melodise with man's blest nature there.

       The vast tract of the parched and sandy waste
     Now teems with countless rills and shady woods,
     Corn-fields and pastures and white cottages;
     And where the startled wilderness did hear                  375
     A savage conqueror stained