Far along,

From peak to peak, the rattling crags among
Leaps the live thunder! - Childe Harold.

- his eyes

He heard it, but he heeded not
Were with his heart, and that was far away.

What lost a world, and bade a hero fly?
The timid tear in Cleopatra's eye. The Corsair.

He who of old would rend the oak,

Dream'd not of the rebound.

Ode To Napoleon Buonaparte.

Many are poets who have never penn❜d.

The Prophecy Of Dante.

Keen were his pangs, but keener far to feel
He nursed the pinion which impell'd the steel.

– English Bards And Scotch Reviewers.

Yes one the first- the last- the best-
The Cincinnatus of the west.

...

- Additional Stanzas To Napoleon Buonaparte.

Man's love is of man's life a thing apart,

Dear Nature is the kindest mother still,

Though always changing, in her aspect mild;
From her bare bosom let me take

my fill,

Her never-wean'd, though not her favour'd child. 5 Oh! she is fairest in her features wild,

Where nothing polish'd dares pollute her path:

To me by day or night she ever smiled,

Though I have mark'd her when none other hath,

And sought her more and more, and loved her best in wrath,

Scan and classify the metrical system. What previously read poem of Wordsworth's reveals in one great phrase the maternity of nature?

CANTO III

XIII

Where rose the mountains, there to him were friends;

Where roll'd the ocean, thereon was his home;
Where a blue sky, and glowing clime, extends,
He had the passion and the power to roam:
5 The desert, forest, cavern, breaker's foam,
Were unto him companionship; they spake
A mutual language, clearer than the tome
Of his land's tongue, which he would oft forsake
For Nature's pages glass'd by sunbeams on the lake.

XV

But in Man's dwellings he became a thing
Restless and worn, and stern and wearisome,
Droop'd as a wild-born falcon with clipt wing,
To whom the boundless air alone were home:
5 Then came his fit again, which to o'ercome,
As eagerly the barr'd-up bird will beat

His breast and beak against his wiry dome
Till the blood tinge his plumage, so the heat
Of his impeded soul would through his bosom eat.

LXXII

I live not in myself, but I become

Portion of that around me and to me

High mountains are a feeling, but the hum
Of human cities torture: I can see

5 Nothing to loathe in nature, save to be
A link reluctant in a fleshly chain,
Class'd among creatures, when the soul can flee,
And with the sky, the peak, the heaving plain

Of ocean, or the stars, mingle, and not in vain.

What lines in "Tintern Abbey" are filled with similar sentiment?

LXXV

Are not the mountains, waves, and skies, a part

Of me and of my soul, as I of them?

Is not the love of these deep in my heart
With a pure passion? should I not contemn
5 All objects, if compar'd with these? and stem
A tide of suffering, rather than forego

Such feelings for the hard and worldly phlegm

Of those whose eyes are only turn'd below, Gazing upon the ground, with thoughts which dare not glow.

What echoes of "Tintern Abbey" are again heard? Matthew Arnold asserts that so soon as Byron reflects he is a child. Compare the philosophy contained in these stanzas to what Schopenhauer says in Book III. of "The World As Idea": "Whoever now has, after the manner referred to, become so absorbed and lost in the perception of nature that he only continues to exist as the pure knowing subject, becomes in this way directly conscious that, as such, he is the condition, that is, the supporter, of the world and all objective existence; for this now shows itself as dependent upon his existence. Thus he draws nature into himself, so that he sees it to be merely an accident of his own being."

CASCATA DEL MARMORE

CANTO IV

LXIX-LXXII

The roar of waters! - from the headlong height
Velino cleaves the wave-worn precipice;

The fall of waters! rapid as the light

The flashing mass foams shaking the abyss;
5 The hell of waters! where they howl and hiss,
And boil in endless torture; while the sweat
Of their great agony, wrung from out this
Their Phlegethon, curls round the rocks of jet
That gird the gulf around, in pitiless horror set,

LXX

10 And mounts in spray the skies, and thence again Returns in an unceasing shower, which round, With its unemptied cloud of gentle rain,

Is an eternal April to the ground,

Making it all one emerald: how profound

15 The gulf and how the giant element

From rock to rock leaps with delirious bound,

Crushing the cliffs, which, downward worn and rent, With his fierce footsteps, yield in chasms a fearful vent

LXXI

To the broad column which rolls on, and shows 20 More like the fountain of an infant sea

Torn from the womb of mountains by the throes
Of a new world, than only thus to be
Parent of rivers, which flow gushingly,

With many windings through the vale: Look back!

25 Lo! where it comes like an eternity,

As if to sweep down all things in its track,

Charming the eye with dread, a matchless cataract,

LXXII

Horribly beautiful! but on the verge,

From side to side, beneath the glittering morn,

30 An Iris sits, amidst the infernal surge,

Like Hope upon a death-bed, and, unworn

Its steady dyes, when all around is torn

By the distracted waters, bears serene

Its brilliant hues with all their beams unshorn :

35 Resembling, 'mid the torture of the scene,

Love watching Madness with unalterable mien.

I saw the "Cascata del Marmore " of Terni twice, at different periods; once from the summit of the precipice, and again from the valley below. Byron. The Velino, fifty miles northeast of Rome, in three leaps covers in turbulence of waters six hundred and fifty feet. In "Tintern Abbey" is there a confession by Wordsworth that he passed through the Byronic stage, in which one gets only physical pleasure from contemplating the fiercest phenomena of nature? Analyse the finést phrase in the four stanzas. Contrast “Cascata del Marmore " with the poet's description of calm Lake Leman, "Childe Harold," Canto III. LXXXV-XCI.