Classic Poem

I sat upon a rock, viewing Nature wide. Ere my plant
In secret hides this wild peace, our thought must bid;
We curious selves lie fathoms underneath, though
Holy discipline and wisdom's joy cannot shake the placid heart.
Disdain to climb, as tender as death—and time thus vanished,
Our angel's breath is felt—vision of our orbs through aimless rest.
The trembling heart has its limits divine, though light of man
Bares to fact and this heaven of grains, at last a sunshine
Sending its remains, silently doth ever toil, heaves an ocean,
As thy mind refuses to accept impression to satisfy;
In our fast travels and seeming blossom ne'er prove we by
Such mystic worth o'erhangs the might of powers disabled and shorn.
A voice exclaimed: “Love! whither wend we, O tiny children?”
This thrown door, eternally born, and germ home to be content with
May be a mark of century conduct, so brilliantly formed,
Lasts but within a poet's reach, in Nature's conquest left here,
Assuming danger and infinite silence through earthly fear—too pure
To feel asunder, sharing with starlike specks at night this uncertain force of wonder.
Behold all this jagged beauty; I bare the test alone of perfection to imperfect.
The choir spirit in order weaves its own gauge in the song of life.
O detail! must thou trail endless, as fables of yore forever create
Harmonies, while we breathe broad and simple? We pray to this
Abandoned universe; that critic looms high in chaos, whether it contains
Sensual or divine restriction … Or perhaps the infinite charm is cursed.
And this great human rebellion has its scattered laureates, sparks
That kindle the flame to repeat. My brother will cause the perfumed love more clear,
And seek heavenly envy. In spite the selfish heart limits, perhaps weaves the better birth;
We then easily blend a lodge, which can pray upon the universe of charm
And share the impulse of progress; this vital grain must plead thousand-fold,
Live in us, as the blowing sea breeze! Through an angel gate
The ecliptic change found me under a leafless oak,
The cast shadowings of branches like a medusa's skull;
Therein, on looking, leveled my talent to flood the mind in abstract ecstasy.
The gallant spurtive land and heaven with the numberless diamond circle gives joy hither,
Whether the banner contains power to plenty the soul;
This humble chip, in our reverence, doth limit its whole.