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And now the spirit, free and fair,
Awoke from out its sensual sleep;
By you unchained, the slave of care
Into the arms of joy could leap.
Each brutish barrier soon was set at naught,
Humanity first graced the cloudless brow,
And the majestic, noble stranger, thought,
From out the wondering brain sprang boldly now.
Man in his glory stood upright,
And showed the stars his kingly face;
His speaking glance the sun’s bright light
Blessed in the realms sublime of space.
Upon the cheek now bloomed the smile,
The voice’s soulful harmony
Expanded into song the while,
And feeling swam in the moist eye;
And from the mouth, with spirit teeming o’er,
Jest, sweetly linked with grace, began to pour.

Sunk in the instincts of the worm,
By naught but sensual lust possessed,
Ye recognized within his breast
Love-spiritual’s noble germ;
And that this germ of love so blest
Escaped the senses’ abject load,
To the first pastoral song he owed.
Raised to the dignity of thought,
Passions more calm to flow were taught
From the bard’s mouth with melody.
The cheeks with dewy softness burned;
The longing that, though quenched, still yearned,
Proclaimed the spirit-harmony.

The wisest’s wisdom, and the strongest’s vigor,–
The meekest’s meekness, and the noblest’s grace,
By you were knit together in one figure,
Wreathing a radiant glory round the place.
Man at the Unknown’s sight must tremble,
Yet its refulgence needs must love;
That mighty Being to resemble,
Each glorious hero madly strove;
The prototype of beauty’s earliest strain
Ye made resound through Nature’s wide domain.

The passions’ wild and headlong course,
The ever-varying plan of fate,
Duty and instinct’s twofold force,
With proving mind and guidance straight
Ye then conducted to their ends.
What Nature, as she moves along,
Far from each other ever rends,
Become upon the stage, in song,
Members of order, firmly bound.
Awed by the Furies’ chorus dread,
Murder draws down upon its head
The doom of death from their wild sound.
Long e’er the wise to give a verdict dared,
An Iliad had fate’s mysteries declared
To early ages from afar;
While Providence in silence fared
Into the world from Thespis’ car.
Yet into that world’s current so sublime
Your symmetry was borne before its time,
When the dark hand of destiny
Failed in your sight to part by force.

What it had fashioned ‘neath your eye,
In darkness life made haste to die,
Ere it fulfilled its beauteous course.
Then ye with bold and self-sufficient might
Led the arch further through the future’s night:
Then, too, ye plunged, without a fear,
Into Avernus’ ocean black,
And found the vanished life so dear
Beyond the urn, and brought it back.
A blooming Pollux-form appeared now soon,
On Castor leaning, and enshrined in light–
The shadow that is seen upon the moon,
Ere she has filled her silvery circle bright!

Yet higher,–higher still above the earth
Inventive genius never ceased to rise:
Creations from creations had their birth,
And harmonies from harmonies.
What here alone enchants the ravished sight,
A nobler beauty yonder must obey;
The graceful charms that in the nymph unite,
In the divine Athene melt away;
The strength with which the wrestler is endowed,
In the god’s beauty we no longer find:
The wonder of his time–Jove’s image proud–
In the Olympian temple is enshrined.

The world, transformed by industry’s bold hand,
The human heart, by new-born instincts moved,
That have in burning fights been fully proved,
Your circle of creation now expand.
Advancing man bears on his soaring pinions,
In gratitude, art with him in his flight,
And out of Nature’s now-enriched dominions
New worlds of beauty issue forth to light.
The barriers upon knowledge are o’erthrown;
The spirit that, with pleasure soon matured,
Has in your easy triumphs been inured
To hasten through an artist-whole of graces,
Nature’s more distant columns duly places.
And overtakes her on her pathway lone.
He weighs her now with weights that human are,
Metes her with measures that she lent of old;
While in her beauty’s rites more practised far,
She now must let his eye her form behold.
With youthful and self-pleasing bliss,
He lends the spheres his harmony,
And, if he praise earth’s edifice,
‘Tis for its wondrous symmetry.