University of Virginia Library


177

LINES TO A POETESS.

Lady—I know thee only
Through the breathings of thy song,
But my thought has often pictured thee
The loveliest of the throng,
Who, in our free, wild forest-land,
Have knelt them at the shrine
Of Eloquence and Poesy—
The thrilling, the divine.
The ever-verdant islands
That dot Mind's soundless sea,
Seem pleasure-walks, and pilgrim-spots,
Familiar unto thee;
And the flowers of immortal Thought
That there unfading bloom,
Thou hast their beauty at thy heart,
Their brightness, their perfume.
Along the blessed Heaven
Thy spirit holds its way,
In the starry radiance of the night,
And the golden light of day,—

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Its pinions flashing back the sheen
Of those unclouded spheres,
And its own wild music mingling
With the angel-notes it hears.
In the human heart already
Thou hold'st an honored place,
And there thou hast engraven things
Which nothing can efface.
Hold on, among Earth's gifted, then!
Tread firm the paths of Fame!
And high, upon the heaven of Mind,
Thou'lt write a deathless name.