TO A MODERN POET.
WITH A COPY OF “SHAKSPEARE'S SONNETS.”
Take thou these words thine elder brother writ,—
Thou, to whom Song is as thy native speech!
Across the swift-flown centuries thou canst reach
To him, thy kinsman, reverent hands and sit—
While shadows of the Past about ye flit—
With him, “in sessions of sweet, silent thought,”
And share with him those halcyon days that brought
Music's sweet charm, and sparkle keen of wit.
So shalt thou learn the secret of his song,—
Those minor chords; since Life is as the leaf,
And gladdest love and brightest day are brief;
Those clear, bold notes that told his soul was strong,
Brave to endure, and swift to smite the wrong,
Until Death healed thine elder brother's grief.
