XCVI.

Sky--Mountains--River--Winds--Lake--Lightnings! ye! With night, and clouds, and thunder--and a Soul To make these felt and feeling, well may be Things that have made me watchful; the far roll Of your departing voices, is the knoll[338] Of what in me is sleepless,--if I rest. But where of ye, O Tempests! is the goal? Are ye like those within the human breast? Or do ye find, at length, like eagles, some high nest?