The Two Angels and Other Poems By Alexander Anderson ... with an Introductory Sketch by Rev. George Gilfillan |
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THE POET. |
 | The Two Angels and Other Poems |  |
THE POET.
The poet is not for the crowd; he stands
An isolation from the multitude,
And breathes a breath which comes from higher lands,
Where good rules over good.
An isolation from the multitude,
And breathes a breath which comes from higher lands,
Where good rules over good.
He sees the unseen force of things that move
In systems parallel to those of ours,
And widely grasps the universal love
And law that rules the flowers.
In systems parallel to those of ours,
And widely grasps the universal love
And law that rules the flowers.
So, warming with his given task, he flings
The quietness of never-failing strength
Around all forms, till, Hercules-like, he brings
The fire-eyed Truth at length:
The quietness of never-failing strength
Around all forms, till, Hercules-like, he brings
The fire-eyed Truth at length:
And fencing her with sharp, keen words, she creeps
Throughout the beating heart and mighty limb
Of this upheaving earth; and, if she sleeps,
'Tis but to be like him
Throughout the beating heart and mighty limb
Of this upheaving earth; and, if she sleeps,
'Tis but to be like him
Who rests beneath his hill of fire, yet wakes
With heaven-filling smoke and thunder sound:
So she, arising in word armour, shakes
The universal bound.
With heaven-filling smoke and thunder sound:
So she, arising in word armour, shakes
The universal bound.
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He scans with lightning glance the great abyss,
Wherein is laid the daily wrong and sin,
And whispers, “Bloodshed will not vanquish this—
What if a song should win?”
Wherein is laid the daily wrong and sin,
And whispers, “Bloodshed will not vanquish this—
What if a song should win?”
Then, catching the swift hour, with fearless breast
He sings. The foremost of the silent years
Shrinks in his shame that such a blot should rest
Upon himself and peers.
He sings. The foremost of the silent years
Shrinks in his shame that such a blot should rest
Upon himself and peers.
And the quick words, swathed in their music, drop
Like summer blossoms left by fickle winds,
And, taking root, spring up and flower, like hope
In human hearts and minds:
Like summer blossoms left by fickle winds,
And, taking root, spring up and flower, like hope
In human hearts and minds:
That, feeling the new growth, start up to hear
Murmurs within as of the waking soul,
And nerving whispers, full of strength and cheer,
For the far heavenward goal.
Murmurs within as of the waking soul,
And nerving whispers, full of strength and cheer,
For the far heavenward goal.
So from the hurry of the world's great mart
The poet stands, inviolate and strong,
Shooting, Apollo-like, his word-dipp'd dart
Full in the front of wrong.
The poet stands, inviolate and strong,
Shooting, Apollo-like, his word-dipp'd dart
Full in the front of wrong.
| The Two Angels and Other Poems | |