07.05.2007, 10:59
Shelley
Holy and mighty Poet of the spirit
That broods and breathes along the universe!
In the least portion of whose starry verse
Is the great breath the spheréd heavens inherit –
No human song is eloquent as thine;
For, by a reasoning instinct all divine,
Thou feel’st it the soul of things; and thereof singing,
With all the madness of a skylark, springing
From earth to heaven, the intensenses of thy strain,
Like the lark’s music, all around is ringing,
Laps us in God’s own heart, and we regain
Our primal life ethernal! Men profane
Blaspheme thee; I have heard thee dreamer styled –
I’ ve mused upon this wakefulness – and smiled.
Holy and mighty Poet of the spirit
That broods and breathes along the universe!
In the least portion of whose starry verse
Is the great breath the spheréd heavens inherit –
No human song is eloquent as thine;
For, by a reasoning instinct all divine,
Thou feel’st it the soul of things; and thereof singing,
With all the madness of a skylark, springing
From earth to heaven, the intensenses of thy strain,
Like the lark’s music, all around is ringing,
Laps us in God’s own heart, and we regain
Our primal life ethernal! Men profane
Blaspheme thee; I have heard thee dreamer styled –
I’ ve mused upon this wakefulness – and smiled.