Not here, where that quick, subtle spirit of his With many a smile and many a nodded jest Seemed to escape us when we praised our best, Could he be wholly what he was and is. But in the simple house where once he dwelt, Amidst the old fashioned Portsmouth neighborhood In days when all of life was glad and good, He will be willing to be known and felt; A soul attuned to music, and a mind Mystically vowed to beauty, in an art That tirelessly upon itself refined: Less of the school than of the poet heart, There in his earliest and his latest home He hospitably waits and bids us come. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SUMMER DAYS by WATHEN MARK WILKS CALL THE BALLAD OF THE FOXHUNTER by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS FROM A DUSTY SHELF by MAVIS CLARE BARNETT PRAYER by DAVID HARTLEY COLERIDGE ON MY FRIEND, MR. ALEXANDER BROME by CHARLES COTTON SAMSON TO HIS DALILAH by RICHARD CRASHAW A CHRISTMAS SCENE; OR, LOVE IN THE COUNTRY by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS |