 | The Poetical Works of Caroline Bowles Southey |  |
How holy was the calm of that small room!
How tenderly the evening light stole in,
As 'twere in reverence of its sanctity!
Here and there touching with a golden gleam
Book-shelf or picture-frame, or brightening up
The nosegay set with daily care—love's own—
Upon the study table. Dallying there
Among the books and papers, and with beam
Of softest radiance, starring like a glory
The old man's high bald head and noble brow,
There still I found him, busy with his pen—
Oh pen of varied power! found faithful ever,
Faithful and fearless in the one great cause—
Or some grave tome, or lighter work of taste—
His no ascetic, harsh, soul-narrowing creed—
Or that unrivalled pencil, with few strokes,
And sober tinting slight, that wrought effects
Most magical—the poetry of art!
Lovely simplicity!—true wisdom's grace—
That, condescending to a simple child,
Spread out before me hoards of graphic treasures;
Smiling encouragement as I expressed
Delight or censure—for in full good faith
I played the critic—and vouchsafing mild
To explain or vindicate; in seeming sport
Instructing ever; and on graver themes
Winning my heart to listen, as he taught
Things that pertain to life.
How tenderly the evening light stole in,
As 'twere in reverence of its sanctity!
Here and there touching with a golden gleam
Book-shelf or picture-frame, or brightening up
The nosegay set with daily care—love's own—
Upon the study table. Dallying there
Among the books and papers, and with beam
Of softest radiance, starring like a glory
The old man's high bald head and noble brow,
There still I found him, busy with his pen—
Oh pen of varied power! found faithful ever,
Faithful and fearless in the one great cause—
Or some grave tome, or lighter work of taste—
96
Or that unrivalled pencil, with few strokes,
And sober tinting slight, that wrought effects
Most magical—the poetry of art!
Lovely simplicity!—true wisdom's grace—
That, condescending to a simple child,
Spread out before me hoards of graphic treasures;
Smiling encouragement as I expressed
Delight or censure—for in full good faith
I played the critic—and vouchsafing mild
To explain or vindicate; in seeming sport
Instructing ever; and on graver themes
Winning my heart to listen, as he taught
Things that pertain to life.
Oh precious seed!
Sown early; soon, too soon—the sower's hand,
The immediate mortal instrument withdrawn—
Tares of this evil world sprang thickly up
Choking your promise. But the soil beneath—
Nor rock nor shifting sand—retained ye still,
God's mercy willing it, until His hand,
Chastening as fathers chasten, cleared at last
The encumbered surface, and the grain sprang up.—
But hath it flourished?—hath it yet borne fruit
Acceptable? Oh Father! leave it not
For lack of moisture yet to fall away!
Sown early; soon, too soon—the sower's hand,
The immediate mortal instrument withdrawn—
Tares of this evil world sprang thickly up
Choking your promise. But the soil beneath—
Nor rock nor shifting sand—retained ye still,
God's mercy willing it, until His hand,
Chastening as fathers chasten, cleared at last
The encumbered surface, and the grain sprang up.—
But hath it flourished?—hath it yet borne fruit
Acceptable? Oh Father! leave it not
For lack of moisture yet to fall away!
| The Poetical Works of Caroline Bowles Southey | |