The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith ... Revised by the Author: Coll. ed. |
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 | The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith |  |
WAGSTAFF
With supple form, and radiant face,
And shock of swirling Auburn hair,
And brown plaid, worn with careless grace,
He sauntered, loitering every where;
For his swift-glancing eye must look
On all that met him by the way,
And every street was like a book
Which he could read the live-long day:
Nor sun nor moon nor star nor chime
Set punctual tide for him or time,
For all his habits were at strife
With orderly mechanic life;
And in the Mart when he was seen,
Where sharp wits drove their bargains keen,
His wayward thoughts were oft astray,
Brooding with Ruskin on St. Mark's,
Or dreaming on some broomy brae
Among the linnets and the larks.
And shock of swirling Auburn hair,
And brown plaid, worn with careless grace,
He sauntered, loitering every where;
For his swift-glancing eye must look
On all that met him by the way,
And every street was like a book
Which he could read the live-long day:
Nor sun nor moon nor star nor chime
Set punctual tide for him or time,
For all his habits were at strife
With orderly mechanic life;
And in the Mart when he was seen,
Where sharp wits drove their bargains keen,
His wayward thoughts were oft astray,
Brooding with Ruskin on St. Mark's,
Or dreaming on some broomy brae
Among the linnets and the larks.
274
No flower that in the garden grows
But all its way of life he knew,
No wilding in the green hedgerows
But he could tell its story true;
And where birds nestled, how they sung,
And where to find the honey bees,
What varying notes were heard among
The beech-woods and the stiff pine trees,
All sights and sounds of Nature, well
Their nicest difference he could tell;
For where the careless footstep trod
He saw the glory and power of God.
All beauty thrilled him like the kiss
Of young love in its early bliss;
And so his life had great delight,
For beauty everywhere he met;
A moss would make his eye grow bright,
A cowslip or a violet.
But all its way of life he knew,
No wilding in the green hedgerows
But he could tell its story true;
And where birds nestled, how they sung,
And where to find the honey bees,
What varying notes were heard among
The beech-woods and the stiff pine trees,
All sights and sounds of Nature, well
Their nicest difference he could tell;
For where the careless footstep trod
He saw the glory and power of God.
All beauty thrilled him like the kiss
Of young love in its early bliss;
And so his life had great delight,
For beauty everywhere he met;
A moss would make his eye grow bright,
A cowslip or a violet.
The music of the ancient days,
The pictures of the age of faith,
When Song was still the voice of Praise,
And Worship had its vital breath
In forms of loveliness divine—
Virgin and babe of tender grace—
He would be drunken as with wine
On holy hymn or saintly face.
And oh to hear him (when he met,
With some new loan, an ancient debt)
Come back to Keats's picture-words
Like flowers and fruits and singing birds;
Or Wordsworth's touch of Truth, who saw
All nature wrapt in love and awe;
Or Shelley's strains, like lark unseen
In mystic sweetness rippling on;
Or the choice words, and vision keen,
And perfect art of Tennyson!
The pictures of the age of faith,
When Song was still the voice of Praise,
And Worship had its vital breath
In forms of loveliness divine—
Virgin and babe of tender grace—
He would be drunken as with wine
On holy hymn or saintly face.
And oh to hear him (when he met,
With some new loan, an ancient debt)
Come back to Keats's picture-words
Like flowers and fruits and singing birds;
Or Wordsworth's touch of Truth, who saw
All nature wrapt in love and awe;
Or Shelley's strains, like lark unseen
In mystic sweetness rippling on;
Or the choice words, and vision keen,
And perfect art of Tennyson!
He had large wealth of curious lore,
And freely would his wealth dispense,
And still his speech suggested more
Than lay in its familiar sense;
And we who gathered round him, young
And eager, inspiration caught
From broken fragments which he sung,
Or glimpses of far-reaching thought.
In letters some, and some in Art,
And some in Science took their part;
But all ascribed to him that they
Had found their true life and its way:
Meanwhile he struggled lonely, poor,
Indebted, slighted, and obscure,
And went through darkness into rest;
But yet his thoughts with us abide;
He lives in us, when we are best,
He is but changed and multiplied.
And freely would his wealth dispense,
And still his speech suggested more
Than lay in its familiar sense;
And we who gathered round him, young
And eager, inspiration caught
From broken fragments which he sung,
Or glimpses of far-reaching thought.
In letters some, and some in Art,
And some in Science took their part;
But all ascribed to him that they
Had found their true life and its way:
Meanwhile he struggled lonely, poor,
Indebted, slighted, and obscure,
And went through darkness into rest;
But yet his thoughts with us abide;
He lives in us, when we are best,
He is but changed and multiplied.
| The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith | |