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ode to genius.
And see, the Passions, an infuriate crew,
Rush on his sight!—he smiles to see them rage—
His fancy sports 'mid visions wild and new,
The great, the sad, the terrible, engage
Each tranced sense!—behold his hand he rears,
Tears Time's all covering veil, and leaps the mound of years!
Rush on his sight!—he smiles to see them rage—
His fancy sports 'mid visions wild and new,
The great, the sad, the terrible, engage
Each tranced sense!—behold his hand he rears,
Tears Time's all covering veil, and leaps the mound of years!
And dares an eye, just open'd on the light,
Search the black tablet of the villain's soul;
With mad ambition climb the dizzy height,
Or headlong down the gulph of danger roll?
And can that ear where childhood's lullaby
Has scarcely ceas'd to hum its sleepy sound,
List unappall'd to horror's midnight cry,
When murder bids the death-shriek echo round?
And can the brow youth's greenest garland binds,
Beam with th' unutter'd thoughts, that swell a thousand minds!
Search the black tablet of the villain's soul;
With mad ambition climb the dizzy height,
Or headlong down the gulph of danger roll?
And can that ear where childhood's lullaby
Has scarcely ceas'd to hum its sleepy sound,
List unappall'd to horror's midnight cry,
When murder bids the death-shriek echo round?
And can the brow youth's greenest garland binds,
Beam with th' unutter'd thoughts, that swell a thousand minds!
