 | Poems of home and travel |  |
185
THE DEAREST IMAGE.
I.
I've wandered through the golden landsWhere Art and Beauty blended shine—
Where features limned by painters' hands
Beam from the canvas made divine,
And many a god in marble stands,
With soul in every breathing line;
And forms the world has treasured long
Within me touched the source of Song.
II.
Like madness o'er the spirit cameThe boundless rapture they inspired,
As with my feelings all on flame
I worshipped what the world admired,
186
The soul with mutual ardor fired,
Till Beauty's smile and Glory's star
Seemed to its grasp no more afar.
III.
Yet, brighter than those radiant dreamsWhich won renown that never dies—
Where more than mortal beauty beams
In sibyls' lips and angels' eyes—
One image, like the moonlight, seems
Between them and my heart to rise,
And in its brighter, dearer ray,
The stars of Genius fade away.
London, 1846
| Poems of home and travel | |