And well, too, hast thou shown the sway The passions have o'er mortal kind, Avarice, Ambition, Jealousy, And other turmoils of the mind.
These, like the rays that burst from heaven, Shine brightly forth in verse of thine, For the proud gift to thee is given, To charm, to waken, to refine.
Go on thy way, thy song must claim, From a dull world its ardent praise; With saintly Herbert's twine thy name, And bind with Herbert's verse thy lays.
I WAS told yesterday by one with wise Solemn aspect, and wrinkles 'bout his eyes, That poetry is an idle trade, alack! He had a good black coat upon his back, And deemed himself respectable,--he said, too, That he who verses writes will never do Well in the world, that his character is gone, And he himself no better than a drone. So having said he walked away well pleased;-- Now that's a man, I say, whose mind's diseased. Has he in summer ever watched a rose Burst into blossoming, and as it grows More and more beautiful, sweeten all the air With its rich perfume,--poetry was there.
A sunbeam thrown across The clouds, that makes them glow With light ineffable To eyes from earth below; A small wave of the sea When the vast ocean waits The coming of the storm, That slightly agitates Its surface passing,--as When of danger near First made aware, the roused Lion, though not in fear Looks up, the watchfire then Kindling in his eye, His mane scarcely as yet Moved, nor erected high His head, but his proud glance Circling keen, rapid, stern,-- There poetry is seen By one that can discern. A priest of Nature's own, One she herself ordains, The poet walks in brightness, And still new blessings gains. The sky above hath in it More beauty to his sight, Than to the world it shines In its canopy of light.
The flowers his kindred are That grow in fields remote; They waken in his heart The pure wellsprings of thought: They speak to him alone With low and whispering voice, Like gentle maiden to The lover of her choice.
And none but he can tell What is it that they say, For a most sweet communion Is their's to cheer his way. The ocean in its vastness, He loves, too, as he sees It driven by the tempest, Or slumbering in the breeze. It brings into his vision The coming of that day, When Time within Eternity Shall merge itself away.