Minor Poems, including Napoleon By Bernard Barton. Second Edition, with Additions |
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TO
C. H. TOWNSEND,
ON HIS VERSES TO THE SETTING SUN, INCLUDED IN THE
VOLUME OF HIS POEMS RECENTLY PUBLISHED. |
 | Minor Poems, including Napoleon |  |
90
TO C. H. TOWNSEND, ON HIS VERSES TO THE SETTING SUN, INCLUDED IN THE VOLUME OF HIS POEMS RECENTLY PUBLISHED.
I
Yes! Bard of Nature's vesper hour,Of day's superb decline;
There are who own its thrilling power
With feelings such as thine.
II
Who view that orb as thou hast done,When sinking from our skies;
Who, when his westward goal is won,
Gaze there with wistful eyes.
III
Were it not thus, thy touching layBy none were understood,
Nor would it human bosoms sway
To thought's most soothing mood.
91
IV
But breathing, as it does, a toneTo Nature's votaries dear,
It falls with magic all its own
Upon the spirit's ear.
V
And on their hearts, whose eyes have dweltOn day's declining light,
Its gentle music seems to melt
Like softest dews of night;
VI
Which nourish by their genial powersThe meadow's emerald green,
The loveliness of languid flowers,
The charm of every scene.
VII
And thus it surely ought to be;Still, in these worldly days,
There are who have not bow'd the knee
In Mammon's venal praise.
92
VIII
Who have not barter'd mind's true health,Feeling's exhaustless dower,
Imagination's glorious wealth;
For riches, pomp, or power!
IX
These love, unto the world unknown,To live in Nature's eye;
And, feeling Nature's God their own,
In peace with Him to die!
X
To them, in ocean, sky, and air,Exist unnumber'd spells;
In every thing, and every where,
One mighty Spirit dwells!
XI
His brightness makes more truly brightThe beauty of the morn;
When dew-drops, gemm'd by rays of light,
Bespangle every thorn.
93
XII
The stillness of the noontide hourIs Nature's silent hymn
To God; without whose mighty power
Her splendours all were dim.
XIII
And, in the Sun's serene decline,Its loveliest hues reprove
Those who can view its beams benign,
Nor feel that “God is Love!”
XIV
Who, gazing on the Sun's last beams,Feels not that they impart
More than the Poet's sweetest dreams,
Or proudest works of art?
XV
He seems to say, “Fair world, adieu!“I have fulfill'd my trust,
“And given my glorious light unto
“The just, and the unjust.
94
XVI
“My bounty may have been abus'd,“Unfelt, or unconfess'd;
“And all my glory but amus'd
“Hearts which it should have bless'd.
XVII
“But I reproach not: yet one more“Last effort would I make,
“And win the thoughtless to adore
“Our Maker, for my sake!”
XVIII
And then, magnificently bright,Benignantly serene;
All that can lure the wond'ring sight,
Gives beauty to the scene.
XIX
Well might'st thou, Minstrel! own how weakThe power that words supply;
Well might “a smile be on thy cheek,”
“A tear be in thine eye.”
95
XX
For, oh! the most subduing power,The most harmonious tone,
Of such an harmonizing hour
Can but in thought be known.
XXI
But unto thought that Sun then seemsA type and emblem true
Of Him who gave its brightest beams,
Its softest radiance too.
XXII
Like Him, it sheds its warmth and lightOn all that breathes and lives;
Though they forgetfully may slight
What hour by hour it gives.
XXIII
Like Him, before its beams depart,On eyes long turn'd away,
It opens scenes to touch the heart,—
Would man confess their sway.
96
XXIV
And those who own their deepest spell,With thoughts that upward soar,
Feeling far more than words can tell,
Must silently adore!
[_]
[While this sheet is passing through the press, a notice of Townsend's Poems in the Monthly Review has fallen in my way: in it the Reviewer observes, “Mr. Townsend writes like a gentleman, a scholar, and a poet.” On his claims to the two former characters, however consonant to my feelings, I do not affect to offer an opinion; for his poetry, I return him, most cordially, my thanks.]
| Minor Poems, including Napoleon | |