 | A Summer Christmas and a Sonnet upon The S.S. "Ballaarat." |  |
Ballads he knew, and many a legend old
In knightly Kent and daring Devon told,
And many a border-boast and roundelay
Sung in the good green wood: these he would say
Word by word, line by line, and verse by verse,
After the croonings of a fond old nurse,
Who had nought else to teach him: these he knew,
And sought out many other when he grew,
In dingy quarto bought at fusty stall
Or 'neath old cottage prints fantastical.
In knightly Kent and daring Devon told,
And many a border-boast and roundelay
Sung in the good green wood: these he would say
Word by word, line by line, and verse by verse,
After the croonings of a fond old nurse,
Who had nought else to teach him: these he knew,
And sought out many other when he grew,
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Or 'neath old cottage prints fantastical.
Oft far into the night he converse held
With the great minds and noble hearts of eld—
Caedmon and Mallory, and old Geoffry,
The sire and sieur of English poesy;
Spenser and More and Shakspere, England's voice,
In whom the ears of ages shall rejoice;
Sweet Sidney, Beaumont, Fletcher, ‘rare old Ben,’
And glorious Milton, brave John Bunyan,
Pepys, Evelyn, Clarendon, Addison,
Dick Steele, Defoe and Swift—these he would con,
And Keats and fairy Shelley, who could tell
The sadness of all happiness too well;
And Landor, he to whom 'twas given to show
The longings and the life of long ago.
With the great minds and noble hearts of eld—
Caedmon and Mallory, and old Geoffry,
The sire and sieur of English poesy;
Spenser and More and Shakspere, England's voice,
In whom the ears of ages shall rejoice;
Sweet Sidney, Beaumont, Fletcher, ‘rare old Ben,’
And glorious Milton, brave John Bunyan,
Pepys, Evelyn, Clarendon, Addison,
Dick Steele, Defoe and Swift—these he would con,
And Keats and fairy Shelley, who could tell
The sadness of all happiness too well;
And Landor, he to whom 'twas given to show
The longings and the life of long ago.
And often to these meetings at midnight
Came old school friends he'd studied with delight,
Not diligence: Homer the editor,
And Hesiod the old, and many more;
Dear babbling, loosely-learn'd Herodotus,
Euripides, Sophocles, Æschylus,
Plato and Aristotle; and the soft
Anacreon came with them; nor less oft
Came sage Lucretius and Cicero,
Virgil and witty Horace, Gallio
And legendary Livy; oft too came
The second sire of poetry—a flame
From his own Hell was burning in that breast,
Whence the triunal vision was express'd—
Condemn'd, his love unknown and dead, to roam
In poor and painful exile from his home.
And with him came Messer Boccaccio,
Full of the loves and jests of long ago;
And many a bard who'd listed to his tales,
And sung them o'er again, and one from Wales,
And one from Alcalà, and many more
Whose names were writ in fire, in days of yore.
Came old school friends he'd studied with delight,
Not diligence: Homer the editor,
And Hesiod the old, and many more;
Dear babbling, loosely-learn'd Herodotus,
Euripides, Sophocles, Æschylus,
Plato and Aristotle; and the soft
Anacreon came with them; nor less oft
Came sage Lucretius and Cicero,
Virgil and witty Horace, Gallio
And legendary Livy; oft too came
The second sire of poetry—a flame
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Whence the triunal vision was express'd—
Condemn'd, his love unknown and dead, to roam
In poor and painful exile from his home.
And with him came Messer Boccaccio,
Full of the loves and jests of long ago;
And many a bard who'd listed to his tales,
And sung them o'er again, and one from Wales,
And one from Alcalà, and many more
Whose names were writ in fire, in days of yore.
| A Summer Christmas and a Sonnet upon The S.S. "Ballaarat." | |