 | The various writings of Cornelius Mathews |  |
XI.
THE PAINTER.
A spirit moving through the Universe,
On Heaven's errand or his own Nature's pure behest,
Would feed the beauty of his living wings
On the free air, and on the sunset bright
And on the dawning morn; should a later quest
Detain him far through the heart of night,
Some darker tints might creep across the light,
Or a chill splendor, of the moonbeams born,
Dying in gloom or wakening into morn.
On Heaven's errand or his own Nature's pure behest,
Would feed the beauty of his living wings
On the free air, and on the sunset bright
And on the dawning morn; should a later quest
Detain him far through the heart of night,
Some darker tints might creep across the light,
Or a chill splendor, of the moonbeams born,
Dying in gloom or wakening into morn.
Lighting by chance amid the haunts of men—
Though yearning to get purely forth again—
Their dusty shouts would not sully, but renew
Rather, the glory when it had wandered through.
To pause beneath a mountain, should he choose,
Its shadows would be portion of the many hues:—
And, up returning to his hearth-sky post,
And, dwelling, once again, within his native coast,
The mountain and the sea, the setting sun,
The storm, the face of men, and the calm moon
Would live again upon the pictured vans and in the glowing crest
Of that High Spirit, moving or at rest.
Though yearning to get purely forth again—
Their dusty shouts would not sully, but renew
Rather, the glory when it had wandered through.
To pause beneath a mountain, should he choose,
Its shadows would be portion of the many hues:—
And, up returning to his hearth-sky post,
And, dwelling, once again, within his native coast,
The mountain and the sea, the setting sun,
The storm, the face of men, and the calm moon
Would live again upon the pictured vans and in the glowing crest
Of that High Spirit, moving or at rest.
Be, thou, oh Painter, various, pure and free,
As Heaven's boundless and wide-wingéd minister:
Moving abroad, thy spirit let confer
With whispering beauty, born of Earth, of Air or Sea.
Look on the earth that breaks about thy feet,
In valleys and in mountains starry:
Look on the woods, amid whose colored bowers,
The dark bright seasons, else departed, tarry.
See Heaven shining through the pale blue sky
On some fair day of dreamy summer,
Smiling upon a gentle hour just dead,
Or kindling welcome for a gentler comer.
As Heaven's boundless and wide-wingéd minister:
Moving abroad, thy spirit let confer
With whispering beauty, born of Earth, of Air or Sea.
Look on the earth that breaks about thy feet,
In valleys and in mountains starry:
Look on the woods, amid whose colored bowers,
The dark bright seasons, else departed, tarry.
See Heaven shining through the pale blue sky
On some fair day of dreamy summer,
Smiling upon a gentle hour just dead,
Or kindling welcome for a gentler comer.
Are there no spirits, kin to light and beauty,
Springing to cheer these sweet and suited haunts?
Faces of love and forms of eldest duty,
Which, unexpressed, the soul thereafter pants?
Fill thou, the mansion of thy Father-land
With hues to gladden in its hours of need,
With glancing shapes that every fairness breed,
And pour a larger life from thy creative hand!
Springing to cheer these sweet and suited haunts?
Faces of love and forms of eldest duty,
Which, unexpressed, the soul thereafter pants?
Fill thou, the mansion of thy Father-land
With hues to gladden in its hours of need,
With glancing shapes that every fairness breed,
And pour a larger life from thy creative hand!
| The various writings of Cornelius Mathews | |