To the Earl Russell, I

Deep music of the ancient forest! Through glades and coverts with thy magic winding; And in the silence of our hushed hearts finding Tremulous echoes of thy murmur, Unshapen thoughts thronging and throbbing: O music of the mystery, that embraces All forest depths, and footless far-off places! Thou art the most high voice of nature, Thou art the voice of unseen singers, Vanishing ever deeper through the clinging Thickets, and under druid branches winging A flight, that draws our eyes to follow: Yet, following, find they only forest; But lonely forest, stately melancholy, A consecrated stillness, old and holy; Commanding us to hail with homage Powers, that we see not, hid in beauty: A majesty immeasurable; a glorious Conclave of angels: wherewithal victorious, The Lord of venerable forests, Murmuring sanctuaries and cloisters, Proclaims his kingdom over our emotion: Even as his brother Lord of the old ocean Thunders tremendous laws, in tempest Embattled between winds and waters. O mighty friendship of mysterious forces, O servants of one Will! Stars in their courses, Flowers in their fragrance, in their music Winged winds, and lightnings in their fierceness! These are the world's magnalities and splendours: At touch of these, the adoring spirit renders Glory, and praise, and passionate silence.