Dithyrambic Ode I. on Enthusiasm

Shades of poets blest! That oft my dreams, With rapturous gleams Of glory, have possest; Appear, appear, appear! If yet the mortal vow ye hear, O hither, from your mansions bright, O hither bend your speedy flight; While light and odours float around, And harps unseen empyreal airs resound.

Say, from what living spring Descends the flood of fame, That bears your sacred strains along The vales and echoing mountains o'er Of each admiring shore; While empires all prolong, In every varied speech, the wonders of your song; And languages, that have as yet no name, Their tributary rills shall bring To swell the lordly stream?

Say, from what mighty cause Is heard the high applause, That you the distant climes, That you the distant times, With adoration have confest Gods of the human breast; And, moved with filial awe, Have bent their sense and feeling to your law; And noblest homage brought, The homage of the thought? Enthusiasm was that spring! Enthusiasm was the cause Why heard that high applause! Enthusiasm, race divine! did all those honours bring!

Ye chief of former days, whose daring vows addressed Nature ere hid in Fashion's speckled vest; When she, great goddess, in her prime, Her virgin fancies played at will, Fancies surpassing mortal skill; And with her sons held colloquy sublime, By hallowed fount with verdant gloom o'ergrown, Or in the whispering vale, or desert mountain lone; While forms of heaven not unseen With fairy footsteps paced the green, And in mystic notes conveyed Things secret from the human thought or eye. Full oft, such is thy will, O Poesy! Where vulgar minds discern nought, save the shade, The wise the sun descry . For oft the sun will shroud His flames behind a cloud.

And, Sages, ye whose eloquence divine Would, with a golden chain, The hearer's soul restrain, And bear to every Passion's distant shrine. Whose thunder shook the throne Of each barbaric lord; Tho by deluded myriads prone Of trembling slaves adored. Whose lucid art of life illumed the plan; And heavenly Wisdom brought to dwell with man.

Without thy fierce controul, Enthusiasm, soul of the rapt soul! Picture in vain bids her creation rise; Music in vain her vocal skill applies; In night the fair creation lies; The bidden airs sleep in the sullen shell, Till thou their birth impell. At thy command the glowing forms appear: At thy command the strains enchant the ear.

Thy praise may every art, And science fair impart; For all to thee their richest lustre owe. From thee all attributes of mind That to gods exalt mankind; All deeds immortal flow.

Hark, hark! The sounds of conflict rise; What light divine illumes that sacred field, Leonidas! where thy devoted few Their fatal falchions drew: And of their carcases composed a shield, Their country to protect from dastard enemies! In Freedom's holy hand Their radiant banner flew: Before the godlike band Her rousing trump Enthusiasm blew.

When bold Colombo dared the watery realm A world unknown to find; Enthusiasm held the helm, And with fresh vigor stored his ardent mind. Till rose the wished shore, Where empires lost to fame before, Where golden cities shone, And shrines of other sacred powers; Groves of new pomp, and meads of other flowers, And other music from the copse was blown.

Oh goddess! if one happy clime Remains yet secret from the Muse, Thy blessed influence diffuse, O lend thy votary thy aid sublime, By art's just compass, and by fancy's gate, There to direct his daring sail, And treasures bring unknown in former time!