Out of the mist and hum of that low land
Into the frosted starlight, and there moved
Rejoicing through the hushed Chorasmian waste
Under the solitary moon, till at last
The longed-for dash of waves is heard, and wide
His luminous home of waters opens bright
And tranquil, from whose floor the new-bathed stars
Emerge and shine upon the Aral sea.
He comes to nature, not to bring anything, but to seek rest and refreshment. Byron pours out upon nature, as in Childe Harold, the “sparkling gloom” of his own spirit. Coleridge, as in the Hymn at Chamouni, fills nature with his own lofty rapture. Arnold’s poems all show how he asks of nature, not pleasure or exaltation—only relief. By the lake he says:
How sweet to feel, on the boon air,