The not-narrator is stricken by the beauty of the scene, as is the narrator, and says so in a sort of off-hand way: There is so much here we can't see, but that does not mean it isn't part of reality. The narrator seems to recognize this as an assertion that there is more to the scene than the natural and thinks to himself 'It's great you think that, but I have no need of such beliefs.' In that perfect, beautiful moment, there is no reason to fear anything, no reason to invent. There is only to experience and gape in awe.
The next stanzas paint a similar scene, and the speaker this time actively asserts that what he can see is "all there was", as if he is philosophically a staunch materialist. But the fact he sees no magic in the world in that sense does not at all diminish his awe for what he sees, and we learn of his great sense of love for and kinship with his fellow. He takes immense pleasure in everything.
The not-narrator is stricken by the beauty of the scene, as is the narrator, and says so in a sort of off-hand way: There is so much here we can't see, but that does not mean it isn't part of reality. The narrator seems to recognize this as an assertion that there is more to the scene than the natural and thinks to himself 'It's great you think that, but I have no need of such beliefs.' In that perfect, beautiful moment, there is no reason to fear anything, no reason to invent. There is only to experience and gape in awe.
The next stanzas paint a similar scene, and the speaker this time actively asserts that what he can see is "all there was", as if he is philosophically a staunch materialist. But the fact he sees no magic in the world in that sense does not at all diminish his awe for what he sees, and we learn of his great sense of love for and kinship with his fellow. He takes immense pleasure in everything.
It's lovely.