Towards democracy

422 Towards Democracy

And that far marvelous vibration of the soul, Swifter than light, more powerful than sound, Flies through the world, pierces the rocks and tombs, And gains her Presence at the feet of God.

Tue Lover FAR ON THE HILLS

HH". on this high top far above the worldThis mute and glorious scene, earth’s panorama : [The swelling mountains, all in green and gold, Round-topped, or broken into savage crags ;

The valleys scarcely shown, like narrow rifts ;

The slate-datk shadows, and the tarns and lakes, And vistas over them to sunny lands

Of tiny patchwork, with quaint fields and farms, White sails on waters, and the sun-splashed sea :] Here on this high top dreaming, to it all

I find but one fit hkeness—

Namely the gracious form of her I love.

The limbs and hair, the lips, the eyes, I loveTwin heavenlit lakes—

And undulant lines that run from hips to shoulder ; Fair world of hollow and rondure, hill and plain,So solid-fair like this, so dewy-fragrant,

And all inwrought with that dear life that holds me.

How calm this air! this silence here in heaven Calm blue, and tender hanging clouds delaying To kiss their shadows on the hills’ deep breasts ;