Studiën, tweede bundel

GEMEENSCHAPS-PHILOSOPHIE III 105

het gedicht van Shelley: The spirit of solitude, met zijn beginzang:

Earth, ocean, air, beloved brotherhood! If our great Mother has imbued my soul With aught of natural piety to feel Your love, and recompense the boon with mine; If dewy morn, and odorous noon, and even, With sunset and its gorgeous ministers, And solemn midnight's tingling silent ness; If autumn's hollow sighs in the sere wood, And winter robing with pure snow and crowns Of starry ice the gray grass and bare boughs; If spring's voluptuous pantings when she breathes Her first sweet kisses, have been dear tot me; If no bright bird, insect, or gentle beast I consciously have injured, but still loved And cherished these my kindred; — then forgive This boast, beloved brethren, and withdraw No portion of your wonted favour now!

En zijn zoete heimwee-klanken van mijmerende muziek in:

Her voice was like the voice of his own soul Heard in the calm of thought; its music long, Like woven sounds of streams and breezes, held His inmost sense suspended in its web Of many-coloured woof and shifting hues.

En overal druischt en zilvergrijst dit poëem van heimwee en angstigen weemoed naar het onbekende, ruischt en fluistert het met zijn geheimzinnige, grillig-visioenaire zins-golvingen en zoet-zangrige klanktooverij, als een grijs-gedempte