text:  A rain-flood from the mountain-riven It leaps in thunder forth to Day Before its rush the crags are driven-- The oaks uprooted whirl'd away-- Aw'd yet in awe all wildly glad'ning The startled wanderer halts below; He hears the rock-born waters mad'ning Nor wits the source from whence they go -- So from their high mysterious Founts along Stream on the silenc'd world the Waves of Song! Knit with the threads of life for ever By those dread Powers that weave the woof -- Whose art the singer's spell can sever? Whose breast has mail to music proof? Lo to the Bard a wand of wonder The Herald[8] of the Gods has given: He sinks the soul the death-realm under Or lifts it breathless up to heaven-- Half sport half earnest rocking its devotion Upon the tremulous ladder of emotion