These attain the mighty life you see."
These demand not that the things without them
"Ah, once more," I cried, "ye stars, ye waters,
In the rustling night-air came the answer:
Who finds himself, loses his misery!"
From the intense, clear, star-sown vault of heaven,
For self-poised they live, nor pine with noting
On my heart your mighty charm renew;
"Ye who from my childhood up have calm'd me,
"Bounded by themselves, and unregardful
Forwards, forwards, o'er the starlit sea.
In their own tasks all their powers pouring,
O'er the sea and to the stars I send:
"And with joy the stars perform their shining,
Yield them love, amusement, sympathy.
A cry like thine in mine own heart I hear:
Feel my soul becoming vast like you!"
O air-born voice! long since, severely clear,
In what state God's other works may be,
Weary of myself, and sick of asking
Still, still let me, as I gaze upon you,
Undistracted by the sights they see,
"Wouldst thou be as these are? Live as they.
Calm me, ah, compose me to the end!
And the sea its long moon-silver'd roll;
Over the lit sea's unquiet way,
What I am, and what I ought to be,
And a look of passionate desire
"Resolve to be thyself; and know that he,
All the fever of some differing soul.
"Unaffrighted by the silence round them,
At this vessel's prow I stand, which bears me