N URST in the solitude of the waste wild,
And lonely haunts by mortal foot untrod,
Thou hast not been alone; but, nature's child,
Hast held high converse with thy guardian God,
And bow'd before the bright etherial forms
Of grandeur and of grace his touch has given;
And own'd the spirit which Creation warms,
A mighty impulse which is caught from Heav'n.
To thee the murky cloud, the lightnings keen,
And rushing surges, were but proofs sublime,
Of where that awe-inspiring power has been,
Which calmly triumphs o'er the wrecks of time;
'Till all thy lofty musings burst in song,
And the full tide of rapture roll'd along.

N URST in the solitude of the waste wild,
And lonely haunts by mortal foot untrod,
Thou hast not been alone; but, nature's child,
Hast held high converse with thy guardian God,
And bow'd before the bright etherial forms
Of grandeur and of grace his touch has given;
And own'd the spirit which Creation warms,
A mighty impulse which is caught from Heav'n.
To thee the murky cloud, the lightnings keen,
And rushing surges, were but proofs sublime,
Of where that awe-inspiring power has been,
Which calmly triumphs o'er the wrecks of time;
'Till all thy lofty musings burst in song,
And the full tide of rapture roll'd along.