LONDON
.
IT
is
a
goodly
sight
through
the
clear
air
,
From
Hampstead's
heathy
height
,
to
see
at
once
England's
vast
capital
in
fair
expanse
,
Towers
,
belfries
,
lengthened
streets
and
structures
fair
.
St.
Paul's
high
dome
amidst
the
vassal
bands
Of
neighb'ring
spires
,
a
regal
chieftain
stands
,
And
over
fields
of
ridgy
roofs
appear
,
With
distance
softly
tinted
,
side
by
side
,
In
kindred
grace
,
like
twain
of
sisters
dear
,
The
Towers
of
Westminster
,
her
Abbey's
pride
;
While
,
far
beyond
,
the
hills
of
Surrey
shine
Through
thin
soft
haze
,
and
shew
their
wavy
line
.
View'd
thus
,
a
goodly
sight
!
but
when
survey'd
Through
denser
air
when
moisten'd
winds
prevail
,
In
her
grand
panoply
of
smoke
arrayed
,
While
clouds
aloft
in
heavy
volumes
sail
,
She
is
sublime
.
—
She
seems
a
curtained
gloom
Connecting
heaven
and
earth
,
—
a
threat'ning
sign
of
doom
.
With
more
than
natural
height
,
reared
in
the
sky
'Tis
then
St.
Paul's
arrests
the
wondering
eye
;
The
lower
parts
in
swathing
mist
concealed
,
The
higher
through
some
half-spent
shower
revealed
,
So
far
from
earth
removed
,
that
well
,
I
trow
,
Did
not
its
form
man's
artful
structure
shew
,
It
might
some
lofty
alpine
peak
be
deemed
,
The
eagle's
haunt
with
cave
and
crevice
seamed
.
Stretched
wide
on
either
hand
,
a
rugged
skreen
,
In
lurid
dimness
,
nearer
streets
are
seen
Like
shore-ward
billows
of
a
troubled
main
,
Arrested
in
their
rage
.
Through
drizly
rain
,
Cataracts
of
tawny
sheen
pour
from
the
skies
,
Black
furnace-smoke
in
curling
columns
rise
,
And
many-tinted
vapours
,
slowly
pass
O'er
the
wide
draping
of
that
pictured
mass
.
So
shews
by
day
this
grand
imperial
town
,
And
,
when
o'er
all
the
night's
black
stole
is
thrown
,
The
distant
traveller
doth
with
wonder
mark
Her
luminous
canopy
athwart
the
dark
,
Cast
up
,
from
myriads
of
lamps
that
shine
Along
her
streets
in
many
a
starry
line
:
—
He
wondering
looks
from
his
yet
distant
road
,
And
thinks
the
northern
streamers
are
abroad
.
"
What
hollow
sound
is
that
?
"
approaching
near
,
The
roar
of
many
wheels
breaks
on
his
ear
.
It
is
the
flood
of
human
life
in
motion
!
It
is
the
voice
of
a
tempestuous
ocean
!
With
sad
but
pleasing
awe
his
soul
is
filled
,
Scarce
heaves
his
breast
,
and
all
within
is
stilled
,
As
many
thoughts
and
feelings
cross
his
mind
,
—
Thoughts
,
mingled
,
melancholy
,
undefined
,
Of
restless
,
reckless
man
,
and
years
gone
by
,
And
Time
fast
wending
to
Eternity
.