God! Thou art all substance wreathing
Into forms that suit thy will;
God! Thou art through all things breathing
One harmonious anthem still.
REYNARD'S SOLILOQUY.
(From the School of Queen Mab.)
Halloo! halloo! Wild woodland now!
How the twinkling stars look down!
And rocky and rude is the mountain's brow,
And dark is the forest's frown.
Ha! ha! the dens and brambled fens
My wild eyes laugh to greet,
And over the clifts and rocky rifts
Right merrily dance my feet.
Pure is the gale, and odors rise
From the wild woodland hill;
Wo-hoo! Wo-hoo! the dark owl cries,
And shrilly the whip-poor-will;
But the deep tone of the owlet's moan
Is a note of courage all free,
And the whip-poor-will's trill beneath the hill
Gives music and motion to me.
The farmers' geese are very well fed,
And fat and sleek are they;—
The blood-hound lies in his dreamy bed,
So let me seek my prey.
On drumming wings the partridge springs,
As over the brakes I fly;
But soon, like specks, the lily-white necks
Will float before my eye.
