18.06.2007, 10:29
The Soul
Whence are these motions of the human soul?
Itself outside itself wanders and soars,
Alighting now from old Diluvian shores,
Or where the many-moonéd planets roll,
Or the fixed stars gaze round the icy pole,--
A moment on the threshold of itself
To stand, then hide, an unsubstantial elf,
Or, eyeless, burrow downward like a mole.
But all the while, as a still sentinel
Upon a lonely hill, it marks the track
Itself hath made, and hath the potent spell
Its absent self at will to summon back:--
So several it is, and yet so one,
Such diverse moods that move in unison!
Whence are these motions of the human soul?
Itself outside itself wanders and soars,
Alighting now from old Diluvian shores,
Or where the many-moonéd planets roll,
Or the fixed stars gaze round the icy pole,--
A moment on the threshold of itself
To stand, then hide, an unsubstantial elf,
Or, eyeless, burrow downward like a mole.
But all the while, as a still sentinel
Upon a lonely hill, it marks the track
Itself hath made, and hath the potent spell
Its absent self at will to summon back:--
So several it is, and yet so one,
Such diverse moods that move in unison!