But were a kind of nutriment; he lived
Through that which had been death to many men,
And made him friends of mountains: with the stars
And the quick Spirit of the Universe
He held his dialogues; and they did teach
To him the magic of their mysteries;
To him the book of Night was opened wide,
And voices from the deep abyss revealed200
A marvel and a secret—Be it so.
My dream was past; it had no further change.
It was of a strange order, that the doom
Of these two creatures should be thus traced out
Almost like a reality—the one
To end in madness—both in misery.
[First publisbed, The Prisoner of Chillon, etc., 1816.]
"Where rose the moontains, there to him were friends."
Childe Harold, Canto III. stanza xiii. line 1.
"... and to me
High mountains are a feeling."
Ibid., stanza lxxii. lines 2, 3,
Poetical Works, 1899, ii. 223, 261.]
"Ye Spirits of the unbounded Universe!"
Manfred, act i. sc. 1, line 29, vide post, p. 86.]
- [Compare Manfred, act ii. sc. 2, lines 79-91; and ibid., act iii. sc. 1. lines 34-39; and sc. 4, lines 112-117, vide post, pp. 105, 121, 135.]