Red Jacket (From Aloft)Upon this scene, this show,Yielded to-day by fashion, learning, wealth,(Nor in caprice alone—some grains of deepest meaning,)Haply, aloft, (who knows?) from distant sky-clouds’ blended shapes,As some old tree, or rock or cliff, thrill’d with its soul,Product of Nature’s sun, stars, earth direct—a towering human form,In hunting-shirt of film, arm’d with the rifle, a half-ironicalsmile curving its phantom lips,Like one of Ossian’s ghosts looks down.
Upon this scene, this show,Yielded to-day by fashion, learning, wealth,(Nor in caprice alone—some grains of deepest meaning,)Haply, aloft, (who knows?) from distant sky-clouds’ blended shapes,As some old tree, or rock or cliff, thrill’d with its soul,Product of Nature’s sun, stars, earth direct—a towering human form,In hunting-shirt of film, arm’d with the rifle, a half-ironicalsmile curving its phantom lips,Like one of Ossian’s ghosts looks down.