The Fall of the Leaf And Other Poems. By Charles Bucke ... Fourth Edition |
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| I. |
| II. |
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| IV. |
| V. | V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
 | The Fall of the Leaf |  |
V.
Thee, too, each poet, crown'd with wreaths divine,
In every age hath honour'd:—from the time
When Grecian groves, and Grecian mountains charm'd
The soul of wise Euripides;—to when
Th' accomplish'd Petrarch sought the laureate shade.
Petrarch!—How oft, when far from men retired,
Deep in the valley of his fountain,—lost
In silent wonder,—has he tuned his lyre,
And called thee Laura's emblem!—Laura heard,
And blush'd to own how well the poet sung:
Guiltless she blush'd;—while tears of fond regret
Oft down her pallid cheek, in copious streams, would flow.
In every age hath honour'd:—from the time
When Grecian groves, and Grecian mountains charm'd
The soul of wise Euripides;—to when
Th' accomplish'd Petrarch sought the laureate shade.
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Deep in the valley of his fountain,—lost
In silent wonder,—has he tuned his lyre,
And called thee Laura's emblem!—Laura heard,
And blush'd to own how well the poet sung:
Guiltless she blush'd;—while tears of fond regret
Oft down her pallid cheek, in copious streams, would flow.
Thee Spenser woo'd;—the sweetest bard, that e'er
Gave to the trials of earth's pilgrimage
A sacred charm:—and Shakespeare,—bard sublime,—
Who walk'd with Nature, yet who dwelt with man;
And probed him to the bottom of his heart,
From infancy to age:—E'en Shakespeare loved
T' invite thy solemn lustre.—Tasso, too,
Kindled his genius at thy midnight lamp:
And that sweet poet, who resembled him;—
Who made the passions musical;—who knew
The bond and charm of liberty divine;—
Mercy's rich attributes, the soul of man
Quickening with heavenly love: He knew;—he felt,
How sweet the calm thine influence distils,
When from the convent, or the gothic aisle,
Floats holy music through the green arcade,
Or chequer'd vista, to the secret bower,
Whence, through the loop-holes, form'd by blushing vines,
Thy form is view'd in each recoiling wave,
That gilds the surface of the solemn deep.
Gave to the trials of earth's pilgrimage
A sacred charm:—and Shakespeare,—bard sublime,—
Who walk'd with Nature, yet who dwelt with man;
And probed him to the bottom of his heart,
From infancy to age:—E'en Shakespeare loved
T' invite thy solemn lustre.—Tasso, too,
Kindled his genius at thy midnight lamp:
And that sweet poet, who resembled him;—
Who made the passions musical;—who knew
The bond and charm of liberty divine;—
Mercy's rich attributes, the soul of man
Quickening with heavenly love: He knew;—he felt,
How sweet the calm thine influence distils,
When from the convent, or the gothic aisle,
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Or chequer'd vista, to the secret bower,
Whence, through the loop-holes, form'd by blushing vines,
Thy form is view'd in each recoiling wave,
That gilds the surface of the solemn deep.
| The Fall of the Leaf | |