XIV.
Was not wild Nature, in that elder-time,
Clothed with a deeper power?—earth’s wandering race,
Exploring realms of solitude sublime,
Not as we see, beheld her awful face!
Art had not tamed the mighty scenes which met
Their searching eyes; unpeopled kingdoms lay
In savage pomp before them—all was yet
Silent and vast, but not as in decay;
And the bright daystar, from his burning throne,
Look’d o’er a thousand shores, untrodden, voiceless, lone.