University of Virginia Library


88

[Give me, O Nature, from thy summer teaching]

Give me, O Nature, from thy summer teaching,
A strophe for thy priest, immortal made;
Let me, too, pluck, with timid hand outreaching,
A duteous chaplet for his regal head.
Shine out, O West! illumined by his traces,
Ere the cramped world took notice of thy state;
He gave the record of thy virgin graces,
And in prophetic vision saw thy fate.
Ye lifted points of flame, ye wide savannahs,
Ye mighty streams, of mountain mothers fed,—
To you, from courtly halls and blazoned banners,
The inner deep command his footsteps led.

89

Ye fair Auroras with your shafts uprearing,
Celestial architecture solved in light,
He knew the limits of the swift careering
With which you build the lofty dome of night.
O beauteous World, with wooers and adorers,
Eager thy favors and thy gifts to claim,
Keep thy best tribute for thy true explorers,
The Saints of study, reverenced in name.
And this one, from the treasury of science,
Where minds perplexed must pass with mystic sign,
Loosing the gates, with masterful compliance
Gave to the multitude her gift divine.
Thus gives the great man,—every footstep taken
Carries remembrance of some human need.
While the high Truth he worships, unforsaken,
Vouchsafes the light for which his labors plead.
No idle pomp nor futile joy delays him,
Sped on the earnest errands of the age;
He cannot pause when kings and courtiers praise him:
Too short the daylight is, too wide the page.
A paradise was his, where, trim as flowers,
The studious book-shelves bore the growth of thought,
A citadel of service, whose fair towers
Took the first message that the morning brought.
Seer of the inward vein and outward blossom,
Master of laws that nurture and control,
He learns, dark Mother, in thy hidden bosom,
The unimagined secret of the soul.