 | Poems of Paul Hamilton Hayne |  |
TO LONGFELLOW.
(ON HEARING HE WAS ILL.)
O thou, whose potent genius (like the sun
Tenderly mellowed by a rippling haze)
Hast gained thee all men's homage, love and praise,
Surely thy web of life is not outspun,
Thy glory rounded, thy last guerdon won!
Nay, poet, nay!—from thought's calm sunset ways
May new-born notes of undegenerate lays
Charm back the twilight gloom ere day be done!
Tenderly mellowed by a rippling haze)
Hast gained thee all men's homage, love and praise,
Surely thy web of life is not outspun,
Thy glory rounded, thy last guerdon won!
Nay, poet, nay!—from thought's calm sunset ways
May new-born notes of undegenerate lays
Charm back the twilight gloom ere day be done!
But past the poet crowned I see the friend—
Frank, courteous, true—about whose locks of gray,
Like golden bees, some glints of summer stray;
Clear-eyed, with lips half poised 'twixt smile and sigh;
A brow in whose soul-mirroring manhood blend
Grace, sweetness, power and magnanimity!
Frank, courteous, true—about whose locks of gray,
Like golden bees, some glints of summer stray;
Clear-eyed, with lips half poised 'twixt smile and sigh;
A brow in whose soul-mirroring manhood blend
Grace, sweetness, power and magnanimity!
| Poems of Paul Hamilton Hayne | |