 | Songs and ballads |  |
Thou that flingest back the portal
Of the high and pure ideal;
Priestess of a spell immortal,
Mingling fancy with the real:
Of the high and pure ideal;
Priestess of a spell immortal,
Mingling fancy with the real:
Thou, whose lofty mind can tower
With illimitable power,
Still continue thy career,—
Teach us—charm us—year by year!
Still the inner light revealing,
With an artist's earnest feeling;
Noble ever!—ever soaring,
With a spirit all adoring,
Towards that world of genius hidden,
Save to steps that heaven hath bidden!
With illimitable power,
Still continue thy career,—
Teach us—charm us—year by year!
Still the inner light revealing,
With an artist's earnest feeling;
Noble ever!—ever soaring,
With a spirit all adoring,
Towards that world of genius hidden,
Save to steps that heaven hath bidden!
All the Seasons seem to claim thee;
Spring comes smiling but to name thee,
Saying how thou topp'st thy station,—
How thou dost adorn thy place
With inimitable grace;—
With delicious modulation;
Making language something more
Than it ever seemed before!
Spring comes smiling but to name thee,
Saying how thou topp'st thy station,—
How thou dost adorn thy place
With inimitable grace;—
With delicious modulation;
Making language something more
Than it ever seemed before!
3
Picture—Sculpture—Music—all
That we poetry may call!
With a pure interpretation,
Worth the whole world's approbation,
Giving spiritual sense
And a purer influence,
To the bard's immortal line!
That we poetry may call!
With a pure interpretation,
Worth the whole world's approbation,
Giving spiritual sense
And a purer influence,
To the bard's immortal line!
| Songs and ballads | |