 | Poems by William W. Story |  |
[XXVIII. Nature allows not man his brother to exclude]
Nature allows not man his brother to exclude,
She spreads her feast alike for fool, wise, bad and good.
She spreads her feast alike for fool, wise, bad and good.
Each what he can may take, so much and nothing more—
Yet nothing that each takes diminishes her store.
Yet nothing that each takes diminishes her store.
Thy walls and gates may shut my feet from thy estate,
Yet Fancy where she will treads scorning wall and gate.
Yet Fancy where she will treads scorning wall and gate.
The acres of dead loam—the wood within the trees,
Thou cravest these alone, so hast thou only these.
Thou cravest these alone, so hast thou only these.
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The poet poor, despised, who loiters dreaming by,
Transmutes this dross to gold with wondrous alchemy.
Transmutes this dross to gold with wondrous alchemy.
He owns the landscape there—the fine ethereal part;
For him the bird sings while he listens with his heart.
For him the bird sings while he listens with his heart.
For him the sunset paints—for him the free winds blow;
He takes the spirit there and lets the dead corpse go.
He takes the spirit there and lets the dead corpse go.
Thy wealth sticks to the earth, a load thou canst not raise—
His, light as thought and safe from death, he bears always.
His, light as thought and safe from death, he bears always.
| Poems by William W. Story | |