 | Areytos or songs and ballads of the South |  |
330
SONNETS.—THERE IS A BABE OF BEAUTY.
I.
There is a Babe of Beauty in each breast,Which, if we nurse with a discretion wise,
Will grow to perfect likeness of the skies,
With sunniest aspect, and a soul possess'd
Of heavenward hopes and fancies; eyes of blue,
Large, dewy, bright, and blessing; lips that blow
Like roses in the breast of Spring: a glow
Of cheeks like sunset, blending with the dew
Of starlight; from its lips shall breathe a song
Of summer; while in every thought, a wing
Shall bear it upward; as when birds that sing,
From passionate raptures, dart in flight along,
Through virgin forests, singing lullabies,
That make earth leap up to embrace the skies.
II.
Alas! how little care have we to nurseThis love-babe Beauty! As in richest wood
We find the reptile, innocent of good—
The frog, the toad, the loathsome—and, still worse,
The venomous, the serpent!—even while sing
Birds overhead, gay colors on each wing,
And the white rose and red, the jessamine,
And thousand other flowers of rarest hue
And fragrance, with delicious influence woo
Our steps to wander on through mazy twine
Of the deep forest: so within the heart
Keep dark companions, nestling close beside
This babe of beauty; and with treacherous art
They strangle, ere its eyes may open wide.
331
III.
Oh! Passions base of man, that ever preyOn manhood's best possessions: Avarice,
Gaunt even in gluttony; Lusts, that in a trice
Mock best resolves and virtues; Appetites,
That drench the soul in madness, and still sway
To the worst overthrow of Good Intent—
Why are ye Fates to this sweet Innocent,
This child of fond, immaculate delights,
This Babe of Beauty? Which, if ye would nurse,
Would save ye from the bondage and the curse;
Would bring ye to the beauty in the skies;
The beauty blessing earth; the good, pure, brave
All that ye need, and all that Heaven denies
To him who is of his own blood the slave!
| Areytos or songs and ballads of the South | |