spangled glory of the summer-night in the roar 
of the Nile-flood, sweeping down fertility in every 
wave in the awful depths of the temple-shrine 
in the wild melodies of old Orphic singers, or be- 
fore the images of those gods of whose perfect 
beauty the divine theosophists of Greece caught 
a fleeting wordnetfear, and with the sudden might of 
artistic  smote it, as by an enchanter's wand, 
into an eternal sleep of snowy stone in these 
there flashes on the inner eye a vision beautiful and 
terrible, of a force, an energy, a , an idea, one 
and yet million-fold, rushing through all created 
, like the wind across a lyre, thrilling the 
strings into celestial harmony one life-blood 
through the million veins of the universe, from one 
great unseen , whose thunderous pulses the 
mind hears far away, beating for ever in the abysmal 
solitude, beyond the heavens and the galaxies, be- 
yond the spaces and the times, themselves but veins 
and runnels from its all-teeming sea. 

" Happy, thrice happy ! they who once have 
dared, even though breathless, blinded with tears 
of awful , struck down upon their knees in utter 
, as they feel themselves but dead leaves 
in the wind which sweeps the universe happy 
they who have dared