UNCONSCIOUS as the sunshine, simply sweet And generous as that, thou dost not close Thyself in art, as life were but a rose To rumple bee-like with luxurious feet; Thy higher mind therein finds sure retreat, But not from care of common hopes and woes; Thee the dark chamber, thee the unfriended, knows, Although no babbling crowds thy praise repeat: Consummate artist, who life's landscape bleak Hast brimmed with sun to many a clouded eye, Touched to a brighter hue the beggar's cheek, Hung over orphaned lives a gracious sky, And traced for eyes, that else would vainly seek, Fair pictures of an angel drawing nigh! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DUTY SURVIVING SELF-LOVE; THE ONLY SURE FRIEND OF DECLINING LIFE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE PAST AND PRESENT by ROWLAND EYLES EGERTON-WARBURTON THE HOUSE BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD by SAM WALTER FOSS HOPEFULLY WAITING by ANSON DAVIES FITZ RANDOLPH THE OWL by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS THE MORAL FABLES: THE FOX, THE WOLF, AND THE CADGER by AESOP |