University of Virginia Library

One sunny Sabbath in a sweet September,
Dost thou remember
How fair, far sheening o'er the pleasant wealds
The mellow Autumn on the woods and fields
Of Sidney's Penshurst lay? O Master mine,
Red I aright that silent mood of thine?—
Yea, I too saw them, heard them as they came,—
Sidney, and Sidney's sister, and her son,
And whispered with thee! Came, too, one by one,
Thy starry brethren in immortal fame,
Who, wistful lingering on those awful lawns
Still walk on springtide dawns,
Spenser and Jonson, peaceful Wotton came,
And Shakspere!—Shakspere, for I saw thee bow
Thy hoary wisdom, and upon thy brow
There glowed a light as of ethereal flame:
And musingly thou question'dst:“Is it true
That Shakspere walked indeed with Herbert there?”
Dost thou remember?—In that haunted air
I felt thy kindred with the mightier few;
Ay, and the secret of thy might I knew,—
That strength to bind, and that swift power to loose,
That gave thee lordship over want and use,
To wield unshorn man's high prerogative,
And live the life that Nature bade thee live:
The whole man subject to thy strong control,
To hold the temperate tenor of thy soul,
And even if stung by common blame or praise,
To nurse a strong will in emasculate days,
And through their pedlar pettiness to keep
In thought and deed, a something of the sweep
Of life Elizabethan, and the grand
Old days when there were giants in the land,
Ere the poor pigmies of a conscious time,
Owned the Man less, but styled the Age sublime—
To teach,—whate'er thy motley mood might be,
Even in jest, the Truth that makes men free;
Even in jest, the Love that makes men kin;—
The Faith in noble deeds that deigns no sin.