 | My Mind and its Thoughts, in Sketches, Fragments, and Essays |  |
62
LINES TO JOHN C. WARREN, M. D. OF BOSTON, MASS.
------ “Known,
“Less by his father's glories than his own.”
“Less by his father's glories than his own.”
Warren! thy name to every patriot dear,
Seems an immortal charm to genius given,
In the bold annals of an empire famed,
In the firm records of her wisdom, prized;
—A star, whose path is glory—while on thee
The rays descend, reflected and reflective.
For thou hast nature's wealth—treasures of mind;
Enlarged by every high and great endowment.
Which culturing art, and lettered lore bestow,
Even mid thy bloom of years; fruits ripe as autumn,
And as the youthful summer's earliest ray,
Bounteous—were seen, in life's fair morn mature
As in the high and full meridian hour,
Of manhood's bright and proud pre-eminence.
Seems an immortal charm to genius given,
In the bold annals of an empire famed,
In the firm records of her wisdom, prized;
—A star, whose path is glory—while on thee
The rays descend, reflected and reflective.
For thou hast nature's wealth—treasures of mind;
Enlarged by every high and great endowment.
Which culturing art, and lettered lore bestow,
Even mid thy bloom of years; fruits ripe as autumn,
And as the youthful summer's earliest ray,
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As in the high and full meridian hour,
Of manhood's bright and proud pre-eminence.
Envied, admired, approved, but most beloved,
Since all the sacred charities that bless,
With every finer elegance, that lives
In look, or form, or accent, are thine own.
Since all the sacred charities that bless,
With every finer elegance, that lives
In look, or form, or accent, are thine own.
Behold the rescued victim of disease,
Him, whom thy stedfast eye and powerful hand,
Pitying, have pained, and saved through many a suffering.
He, mid the moan of anguish, murmurs blessings,
While ONE of mental malady the prey,
She whose hurt brain, and ever quivering nerve,
Invite THE GREAT DETROYER; she has hailed
Thee, gentlest of the gentle,—not more prized
For science, than for virtues, heaven awarded.
Him, whom thy stedfast eye and powerful hand,
Pitying, have pained, and saved through many a suffering.
He, mid the moan of anguish, murmurs blessings,
While ONE of mental malady the prey,
She whose hurt brain, and ever quivering nerve,
Invite THE GREAT DETROYER; she has hailed
Thee, gentlest of the gentle,—not more prized
For science, than for virtues, heaven awarded.
Go on, and in the path where peril dwells,
Meet happiness—that path by genius trod,
Is strewed with honours—thy true heritage,
But most enriched by thee—graceful and graced,
In all the high nobility of nature.
Meet happiness—that path by genius trod,
Is strewed with honours—thy true heritage,
But most enriched by thee—graceful and graced,
In all the high nobility of nature.
| My Mind and its Thoughts, in Sketches, Fragments, and Essays | |