Oh, then with what aspiring gaze
Didst thou thy tranced vision raise
  To yonder orbs on high,
And think how wondrous, how sublime
’Twere upwards to their spheres to climb,
And live, beyond the reach of Time,
  Child of Eternity!

And last the Sylph of Winter spake;
The while her piercing voice did shake
  The castle-vaults below. 
Oh, youth, if thou, with soul refin’d,
Hast felt the triumph pure of mind,
And learnt a secret joy to find
  In deepest scenes of woe;

If e’er with fearful ear at eve
Hast heard the wailing tempest grieve
  Through chink of shatter’d wall;
The while it conjur’d o’er thy brain
Of wandering ghosts a mournful train,
That low in fitful sobs complain,
  Of Death’s untimely call: 

Or feeling, as the storm increas’d,
The love of terror nerve thy breast,
  Didst venture to the coast;
To see the mighty war-ship leap
From wave to wave upon the deep,
Like chamoise goat from steep to steep,
  ’Till low in valleys lost;

Then, glancing to the angry sky,
Behold the clouds with fury fly
  The lurid moon athwart;
Like armies huge in battle, throng,
And pour in vollying ranks along,
While piping winds in martial song
  To rushing war exhort: 

Oh, then to me thy heart be given,
To me, ordain’d by Him in heaven
  Thy nobler powers to wake. 
And oh! if thou with poet’s soul,
High brooding o’er the frozen pole,
Hast felt beneath my stern control
  The desert region quake;

Or from old Hecla’s cloudy height,
When o’er the dismal, half-year’s night
  He pours his sulph’rous breath,
Hast known my petrifying wind
Wild ocean’s curling billows bind,
Like bending sheaves by harvest hind,
  Erect in icy-death;

Or heard adown the mountain’s steep
The northern blast with furious sweep
  Some cliff dissever’d dash;
And seen it spring with dreadful bound
From rock to rock, to gulph profound,
While echoes fierce from caves resound
  The never-ending crash: 

If thus, with terror’s mighty spell
Thy soul inspir’d, was wont to swell,
  Thy heaving frame expand;
Oh, then to me thy heart incline;
For know, the wondrous charm was mine
That fear and joy did thus combine
  In magick union bland.

Nor think confin’d my native sphere
To horrors gaunt, or ghastly fear,
  Or desolation wild: 
For I of pleasures fair could sing,
That steal from life its sharpest sting,
And man have made around it cling,
  Like mother to her child.

When thou, beneath the clear blue sky,
So calm no cloud was seen to fly,
  Hast gaz’d on snowy plain,
Where Nature slept so pure and sweet,
She seem’d a corse in winding-sheet,
Whose happy soul had gone to meet
  The blest Angelic train;

Or mark’d the sun’s declining ray
In thousand varying colours play
  O’er ice-incrusted heath,
In gleams of orange now, and green,
And now in red and azure sheen,
Like hues on dying dolphins seen,
  Most lovely when in death;