Madmoments: or First Verseattempts By a Bornnatural. Addressed to the Lightheaded of Society at Large, by Henry Ellison |
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ALL GOOD SELFDERIVED. |
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 | Madmoments: or First Verseattempts |  |
ALL GOOD SELFDERIVED.
How few Men are all that which they might be!How few possess themselves, their Souls, or know
What divine Blessings may be made to grow,
Like precious Fruits, where they as yet can see
But Thorns and Barrenness on Life's fair Tree!
With their own Thoughts they can make all Things so,
So lovely— Spring bids not more Dayseyes blow,
With her first Breathings, on some grassy Lea,
Than they can call forth Joys: we ourselves make
The Beautiful we seek for— we must wake
Ere we can quicken that which round us lies.
The Lyre has in itself no Harmonies:
Nor the Seashell no Murmurs, 'till the Ear
Be put to it: and all this fair World here,
With the vast Compass of its Melodies,
Is but as a sweet Lyre, which the Hand
E'en of a Child can easily command:
Is but as the Seashell: the Spirit, by
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But with the inner Ear, then all the high
And glorious Hymn sweeps on us full and clear.
But we must be first tuned ourselves, for we
Are as a String in the grand Harmony:
For how, oh how! can a jarred String be made
To play its Part, or feel that which is played?
And wisely God has left each human Soul
To tune itself with this stupendous Whole:
This is its End, its Mission 'neath the Sky!
| Madmoments: or First Verseattempts | |