Why crowd ye cities forth? some reed to find,
Some vain reed trembling to the careless wind?
Or throng ye here to view with doting eye,
Some chieftain stand in purple pageantry?
Some dwell in kingly domes—no silken form
Woos the stern wind and braves the mountain storm.
What rush ye there to seek? some Prophet-seer?
One mightier than the Prophets find ye here—
The loftiest bard that waked the sacred lyre,
To him in rapture poured his lips of fire;