 | The Finding of The Book and Other Poems |  |
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THE CRITIC ANSWERED
Vexed by this voluble talker, I turn'd home,
Half-angry with myself for a half ‘yes.’
Hush! a lark sings. Uplifted littleness,
Airy Longinus of the azure dome,
Poet so born, who didst not so become!
Thou tellest me what yon critic did not guess—
Our songs are just ourselves, not more nor less,
High just as they are high the song starts from.
Voice that voyagest over vibrant seas,
Joy well content with thine own rich enjoyment,
Traveller up from daisies to the sun,
Glorious perfection in a small employment,
Tuned triumph, wing'd, transcendently at ease,
Thou and thy ditty are entirely one.
| The Finding of The Book and Other Poems | |