 | From Sunset Ridge |  |
111
HAMLET AT THE BOSTON
We sit before the row of evening lamps,
Each in his chair,
Forgetful of November dews and damps
And wintry air.
Each in his chair,
Forgetful of November dews and damps
And wintry air.
A little gulf of music intervenes,
A bridge of sighs,
Where still the cunning of the curtain screens
Art's paradise.
A bridge of sighs,
Where still the cunning of the curtain screens
Art's paradise.
My thought transcends these viols' shrill delight,
The booming bass,
And, towards the regions we shall view to-night,
Makes hurried pace.
The booming bass,
And, towards the regions we shall view to-night,
Makes hurried pace.
The painted castle, and the unneeded guard
That ready stand;
The harmless Ghost, that walks with helm unbarred
And beckoning hand.
That ready stand;
The harmless Ghost, that walks with helm unbarred
And beckoning hand.
And beautiful as dreams of maidenhood,
That doubt defy,
Young Hamlet, with his forehead grief-subdued,
And visioning eye.
That doubt defy,
Young Hamlet, with his forehead grief-subdued,
And visioning eye.
112
O fair dead world, that from thy grave awak'st
A little while,
And in our heart strange revolution mak'st
With thy brief smile!
A little while,
And in our heart strange revolution mak'st
With thy brief smile!
O beauties vanished, fair lips magical,
Heroic braves!
O mighty hearts, that held the world in thrall!
Come from your graves!
Heroic braves!
O mighty hearts, that held the world in thrall!
Come from your graves!
The poet sees you through a mist of tears,—
Such depths divide
Him, with the love and passion of his years,
From you, inside!
Such depths divide
Him, with the love and passion of his years,
From you, inside!
The poet's heart attends your buskined feet,
Your lofty strains,
Till earth's rude touch dissolves that madness sweet,
And life remains:
Your lofty strains,
Till earth's rude touch dissolves that madness sweet,
And life remains:
Life that is something while the senses heed
The spirit's call;
Life that is nothing when our grosser need
Ingulfs it all.
The spirit's call;
Life that is nothing when our grosser need
Ingulfs it all.
And thou, young hero of this mimic scene,
In whose high breast
A genius greater than thy life hath been
Strangely comprest!—
In whose high breast
A genius greater than thy life hath been
Strangely comprest!—
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Wear'st thou those glories draped about thy soul
Thou dost present?
And art thou by their feeling and control
Thus eloquent?
Thou dost present?
And art thou by their feeling and control
Thus eloquent?
'T is with no feignèd power thou bind'st our sense,
No shallow art;
Sure, lavish Nature gave thee heritance
Of Hamlet's heart!
No shallow art;
Sure, lavish Nature gave thee heritance
Of Hamlet's heart!
Thou dost control our fancies with a might
So wild, so fond,
We quarrel, passed thy circle of delight,
With things beyond;
So wild, so fond,
We quarrel, passed thy circle of delight,
With things beyond;
Returning to the pillows rough with care,
And vulgar food,
Sad from the breath of that diviner air,
That loftier mood.
And vulgar food,
Sad from the breath of that diviner air,
That loftier mood.
And there we leave thee, in thy misty tent
Watching alone;
While foes about thee gather imminent,
To us scarce known.
Watching alone;
While foes about thee gather imminent,
To us scarce known.
Oh, when the lights are quenched, the music hushed,
The plaudits still,
Heaven keep the fountain, whence the fair stream gushed,
From choking ill!
The plaudits still,
Heaven keep the fountain, whence the fair stream gushed,
From choking ill!
114
Let Shakespeare's soul, that wins the world from wrong,
For thee avail,
And not one holy maxim of his song
Before thee fail!
For thee avail,
And not one holy maxim of his song
Before thee fail!
So get thee to thy couch as unreproved
As heroes blest;
And all good angels, trusted in and loved,
Attend thy rest!
As heroes blest;
And all good angels, trusted in and loved,
Attend thy rest!
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