Is it this sky`s vast vault or ocean`s sound That is Life`s self and draws my life from me, And by instinct ineffable decree Holds my breath quailing on the bitter bound? Nay, is it Life or Death, thus thunder-crown`d, That `mid the tide of all emergency Now notes my separate wave, and to what sea Its difficult eddies labour in the ground? Oh! what is this that knows the road I came, The flame turned cloud, the cloud returned to flame, The lifted shifted steeps and all the way?— That draws round me at last this wind-warm space, And in regenerate rapture turns my face Upon the devious coverts of dismay?SourceThe script ran 0.01 seconds.
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