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218
THE PAINTER BOY.
[_]
Written on hearing a juvenile friend, and aspirant for fame as an artist, express his determination to go to sea, that he might “know how to paint a ship in a storm.”
The Painter Boy walked on the pebbly strand;
He felt the sweet sea-breeze blow;
The waves came dashing on the steadfast land,
And the sails sped to and fro.
He felt the sweet sea-breeze blow;
The waves came dashing on the steadfast land,
And the sails sped to and fro.
The Boy felt kindling in his ardent soul
A new and a wild desire;
His eye filled fuller, at the ocean's roll,
With the light of his spirit's fire.
A new and a wild desire;
His eye filled fuller, at the ocean's roll,
With the light of his spirit's fire.
For what the vast deep in a storm might be,
And the ship so fair and proud
When struggling with a tempest, he longed to see,
Till it rent her, sail and shroud.
And the ship so fair and proud
When struggling with a tempest, he longed to see,
Till it rent her, sail and shroud.
The young artist said, “I 've a scene to paint
That I never had before!
But every line and color will be too faint,
If laid on the passive shore.
That I never had before!
But every line and color will be too faint,
If laid on the passive shore.
“I'll go away off, on the rolling sea,
Where I'll sketch the clouds that form:
I'll draw the wild waves, as they 're tossing me,—
I'll paint a ship in a storm!”
Where I'll sketch the clouds that form:
I'll draw the wild waves, as they 're tossing me,—
I'll paint a ship in a storm!”
219
The ship in a storm thence filled his glowing heart;
And the brush in his puny hand
He dreamed was to crown him with laurels of art,
Could he once escape from land.
And the brush in his puny hand
He dreamed was to crown him with laurels of art,
Could he once escape from land.
And now, wafted off by his fancy's bright flame,
He 's gone on the deep afar;
Whilst, bright, o'er the summit of high Mount Fame,
He sees his one leading star.
He 's gone on the deep afar;
Whilst, bright, o'er the summit of high Mount Fame,
He sees his one leading star.
That star of the world hath its myriads drawn
Far out on a treacherous deep,
Where thousands and thousands, engulfed, are gone,
To one who has climbed the steep!
Far out on a treacherous deep,
Where thousands and thousands, engulfed, are gone,
To one who has climbed the steep!
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