The Eagle's Salute To Art
Hail to thee, blithe spirit
Bird thou'st ever soar
That from heaven or near it
Pour thy full heart
In profuse strain of unpremeditated Art!
To look on nature
Not as in the hour
Nor harsh nor grating
Though of ample power
To chasten and subdue the colours
And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy
Of elevated thoughts;
A sense sublime
Of something far more deeply suffused
"Who has measured the waters?
Measured heavens with a span
And calculated the dust of the earth in true measure."
Whose dwelling is in the light of setting suns?
And the round ocean and the living air,
And the blue sky,
And in the mind of Man;
With and motion and a spirit that impels...
What thou Art we know not?
What is most like thee?
From rainbow clouds there flow not drops so bright to see
As from thy presence showers;
A rain of melody...
Teach us sprightly, Bird
What sweet thoughts are Thine?
I have never heard
Praise of love
That painted forth a flood of rapture so divine!
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