TO A LADY OF GENIUS. IMBUED with the seraphic fire To love to know and to aspire : Thou seëst in thy truthful dream Happy-yet most unhappy still! Think, ere thou choose such high career, Great shall thy pleasures be-thy soul Shall chant with planets as they roll, Made one with Nature part and whole. The clouds that flush the morning sky, The wind that woos the branches high, The leaves that whisper and reply; The heart of every living thing, The flowers that gem the breast of spring, The russet birds that soar and sing; The pendulous click of night and day, The summer's sigh, the winter's roar, All sight, all sound, all sense shall be To thee the past shall disengage The present with its hopes and fears, All shall be giv'n to feed thy mind All these, and more, shall be thine own, And round thine intellectual throne Th' applause of nations shall be blown. TO A LADY OF GENIUS. Thy words shall fill the mouths of men, Oh Fate oh Privilege sublime! And art thou tempted? Wilt thou climb ? Reflect: and weigh the loss and gain; All Joy is counterpoised by Pain :And nothing charms which we attain. Who loves the music of the spheres 'Tis evermore the finest sense The greater joy, the keener grief, And vain, most vain, is youthful trust, And ever turn malicious eyes 125 Their slanders, like the tempest stroke, If Genius live, 't is made a slave Each fault of genius is a crime, Sent drifting on the stream of Time. Wouldst thou escape such cruel fate, But if thou lovest song so well That thou must sing, though this befell May all good angels keep thy heart And shield it from the poison dart, That when thou sittest on the height, ANGELIC VISITANTS. ON Mamre's plain, beside the Patriarch's door Ah no! - The harps of Heaven are not unstrung! The angelic visitants may yet appear To those who seek them! - Lo! at Virtue's side, Its friend, its prop, its solace, and its guide, Walks FAITH, with upturned eyes and voice of cheer, A visible Angel. Lo, at Sorrow's call, HOPE hastens down, an angel fair and kind, And whispers comfort whatsoe'er befall; While CHARITY, the seraph of the mind, White-robed and pure, becomes each good man's guest, And makes this Earth a Heaven to all who love her best. |