OUT from the house I went when early dawn
As yet had hardly ting'd the peaks with gold,
And cottage-smoke in faint ascending wreaths
Stole from the inner depth of valleys old.
At length upon a sunny hill I sat,
Looking at meadows cattle-strown below,
And upwards where into the clear blue sky
Shot out the tapering peaks of pathless snow:
And many similes within my brain
Stirr'd, as if Nature spoke aloud to me,
And said, 'Oh child that watcheth ever, learn
That which I mean by my solemnity.
Even as these high peaks above thee rear,
So stand great souls above the ranks of men;
No summer warmth caresses year by year
Grand heads encircled by a glorious pain.
But if of verdure bare, thou must not doubt
Joys of their own to such great souls are given;
Lonely they are; but though forlorn of men,
They stand in the unchanging light of heaven.
Oh child! receive their teaching; even as here,
Below them, fir and flower are glistering bright,
Warmer, more beautiful, the dawn descends,
Till all the lowest vales are fill'd with light.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem