LXXX

From this wide outlook on art's lonely peak,
I should descry what fortune lies afar
Under the influence of her lucid star,
And, thus assured, no further knowledge seek.
Alas! my station is so high and bleak,
So far above the things that smooth or jar
The dizzy passage of life's flying car,
That the world's sounds are here confused and weak.
I am no dweller on a breezy hill,
But a stern crag, where piercing winds are loud.
Above my head the stars and planets crowd,
Around my feet the lightnings have their will.
Few creatures climb this summit dread and chill,
And all beneath me is dense mist and cloud.