 | Harvest of Thoughts |  |
10
A PLEA TO THE MUSE
Oh Goddess of song, come grant a reflection!
Unbolt the great doors of memory's wall,
And there let me enter, in gardens, through court-yards;
And view the great paintings, that hang in the hall.
Then grant at your leisure, some musical measure;
My harp is untuned and infer' or to thine:
So pledge me one measure, 'twill be of great pleasure,
Perchance it might soothe this vain yearning of mine.
Unbolt the great doors of memory's wall,
And there let me enter, in gardens, through court-yards;
And view the great paintings, that hang in the hall.
Then grant at your leisure, some musical measure;
My harp is untuned and infer' or to thine:
So pledge me one measure, 'twill be of great pleasure,
Perchance it might soothe this vain yearning of mine.
Then away let me ramble, 'cross brooklets through brambles,
'Cross moorland through fallows,
To the far distant hill;
Where the century eagle 'mong the cliffs find her hiding,
And the night winds bring notes,
From the wild whip-poor-will.
She took up her harp, embossed with rare jewels;
The numberless strings all glittered like gold;
Then a bright glittering ra in-bow decended from heaven,
Surounded the damsel, illuming the whole.
'Cross moorland through fallows,
To the far distant hill;
Where the century eagle 'mong the cliffs find her hiding,
And the night winds bring notes,
From the wild whip-poor-will.
She took up her harp, embossed with rare jewels;
The numberless strings all glittered like gold;
Then a bright glittering ra in-bow decended from heaven,
Surounded the damsel, illuming the whole.
11
Her jewel decked fingers were active and nimble
A bracelet of rubies hung loose from her wrist,
Her dark curly locks had gold in their tresses;
Her face was so comely, there was nothing amiss.
She scarce touched the strings,
Ere the great harp responded;
The music was soft yet it echoed afar:
And the sweet chimes came back from wood-land and mountain,
And through the great hall-way, whose door stood ajar.
A bracelet of rubies hung loose from her wrist,
Her dark curly locks had gold in their tresses;
Her face was so comely, there was nothing amiss.
She scarce touched the strings,
Ere the great harp responded;
The music was soft yet it echoed afar:
And the sweet chimes came back from wood-land and mountain,
And through the great hall-way, whose door stood ajar.
I entered the hall-way and gazed at the paintings,
Both modern and ancient, magnificent, grand;
My eyes caught the beauty,
Mine ears drank the music;
That came from her harp, and re-echoed the land.
And last, but not least, to the rear of the hall-way,
There hung a great painting of wonderful cost;
And the muse on her harp played a dirge sweet and solemn,
As I gazed at my crucified Lord on the cross.
Both modern and ancient, magnificent, grand;
My eyes caught the beauty,
Mine ears drank the music;
That came from her harp, and re-echoed the land.
And last, but not least, to the rear of the hall-way,
There hung a great painting of wonderful cost;
And the muse on her harp played a dirge sweet and solemn,
As I gazed at my crucified Lord on the cross.
12
His visage though care worn,
Showed love and compassion;
Great nails pierced His hands,
And like wise, His feet:
Me thought I could hear the wail of the women
Decending the vale of Mt. Calvary's Steep.
Then the muse touched the strings,
And a great song of triumph,
Rang out in the hall-way,
Ere I thought to depart,
While mine eyes caught the sight of a wonderful painting;
That brought great rapture and joy to my heart.
Showed love and compassion;
Great nails pierced His hands,
And like wise, His feet:
Me thought I could hear the wail of the women
Decending the vale of Mt. Calvary's Steep.
Then the muse touched the strings,
And a great song of triumph,
Rang out in the hall-way,
Ere I thought to depart,
While mine eyes caught the sight of a wonderful painting;
That brought great rapture and joy to my heart.
'Twas where He had entered,
The great gates of Heaven,
And countless the angels about Him did throng;
Here the muse ceased her playing,
For she feared to attempt it,
And she blushed when I asked her,
To join in the song.
As I left the great hall-way,
The door closed behind me;
The muse she had vanished,
The music had ceased;
I awoke 'twas a dream—the rain was fast falling,
And the wind shook my lattice,
That came from the east.
The great gates of Heaven,
And countless the angels about Him did throng;
Here the muse ceased her playing,
For she feared to attempt it,
And she blushed when I asked her,
To join in the song.
As I left the great hall-way,
The door closed behind me;
The muse she had vanished,
The music had ceased;
I awoke 'twas a dream—the rain was fast falling,
And the wind shook my lattice,
That came from the east.
| Harvest of Thoughts | |