COME! let me make a sunny realm around thee Of thought and beauty! Here are books and flowers, With spells to loose the fetter which hath bound thee -- The raveled coil of this world's feverish hours. The soul of song is in these deathless pages, Even as the odour in the flower enshrined; Here the crowned spirits of departed ages Have left the silent melodies of mind. Their thoughts, that strove with time, and change, and anguish, For some high place where faith her wing might rest, Are burning here -- a flame that may not languish -- Still pointing upward to that bright hill's crest! Their grief, the veiled infinity exploring For treasures lost, is here; -- their boundless love, Its mighty streams of gentleness outpouring On all things round, and clasping all above. And the bright beings, their own heart's creations, Bright, yet all human, here are breathing still; Conflicts, and agonies, and exultations Are here, and victories of prevailing will! Listen! oh, listen! let their high words cheer thee! Their swan-like music ringing through all woes; Let my voice bring their holy influence near thee -- The Elysian air of their divine repose! Or wouldst thou turn to earth? @3Not@1 earth all furrowed By the old traces of man's toil and care, But the green peaceful world that never sorrowed, The world of leaves, and dews, and summer air! Look on these flowers! as o'er an altar shedding, O'er Milton's page, soft light from coloured urns! They are the links, man's heart to nature wedding, When to her breast the prodigal returns. They are from lone wild places, forest dingles, Fresh banks of many a low-voiced hidden stream, Where the sweet star of eve looks down and mingles Faint lustre with the water-lily's gleam. They are from where the soft winds play in gladness, Covering the turf with flowery blossom-showers; -- Too richly dowered, O friend! are we for sadness -- Look on an empire -- mind and nature -- ours! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JOY OF THE MORNING by EDWIN MARKHAM LAMENT by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY COMPARES THE TROUBLES WHICH HE HAS UNDERGONE, TO LABOURS OF HERCULES by PHILIP AYRES PACCHIAROTTO AND HOW HE WORKED IN DISTEMPER by ROBERT BROWNING DOVECOTT MILL: 13. THE FATHER by PHOEBE CARY YELLOW SUMMER-THROAT by HILDA CONKLING COLLEGE NIGHT by CHRISTINE TURNER CURTIS ON THE EXECUTION OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS by LUCRETIA MARIA DAVIDSON |