 | [Monody on the death of Horatio Greenough, in] A Memorial of Horatio Greenough consisting of a memoir selections from his writings and tributes to his genius |  |
244
MONODY ON THE DEATH OF HORATIO GREENOUGH.
The generous hopes of youth
Are firstlings of our procreant being;
Born while the heart is newly seeing
Great visions of the truth.
Are firstlings of our procreant being;
Born while the heart is newly seeing
Great visions of the truth.
Life's morning glows with fires,
Reddening the soul with lusty flashes,
That, ere its noon, are silent ashes
Of dead dreams and desires.
Reddening the soul with lusty flashes,
That, ere its noon, are silent ashes
Of dead dreams and desires.
He is the highest man,
Whose dreams die not;—in whom the ideal,
Surging for ever, makes life real,
Ending where it began,
Whose dreams die not;—in whom the ideal,
Surging for ever, makes life real,
Ending where it began,
In visionary deeds;—
By plastic will deserted never,
His life-long joy and sweet endeavor
To prosper Beauty's seeds.
By plastic will deserted never,
His life-long joy and sweet endeavor
To prosper Beauty's seeds.
'Tis he helps Nature's might,
Echoing her soul, whether it crieth,
Or silent speaks; and when he dieth,
On Earth there is less light.
Echoing her soul, whether it crieth,
Or silent speaks; and when he dieth,
On Earth there is less light.
245
Then mourn, my country! Shed
Deep tears from thy great lids, and borrow
Night's gorgeous gloom to deck thy sorrow;
Greenough, thy son, is dead.
Deep tears from thy great lids, and borrow
Night's gorgeous gloom to deck thy sorrow;
Greenough, thy son, is dead.
A crownéd son of Art
And thee; lifted by love and duty
To his high work of marble beauty,
Coining thereon his heart.
And thee; lifted by love and duty
To his high work of marble beauty,
Coining thereon his heart.
Quick is grief's shadow sped
Across the seas to Tuscan mountains,
Darkening the depths of living fountains
By Art and Friendship fed.
Across the seas to Tuscan mountains,
Darkening the depths of living fountains
By Art and Friendship fed.
That peopled solitude,
The Studio, where, amid his creatures,
Broodeth the God, his busy features
Irradiant with his mood,
The Studio, where, amid his creatures,
Broodeth the God, his busy features
Irradiant with his mood,
Is orphaned now; and pale,
Each sculptured child seems sadly listening
For the warm look, that came in glistening
With a fresh morning hail.
Each sculptured child seems sadly listening
For the warm look, that came in glistening
With a fresh morning hail.
These are his inmost heirs;
In them still pulse his heart's best beatings,
Of soul and thought deep nuptial greetings:
What most was his, is theirs.
In them still pulse his heart's best beatings,
Of soul and thought deep nuptial greetings:
What most was his, is theirs.
And they are ours. Our sight
Grows strong, as, compassing this gifted
Enmarbled life, we are uplifted:—
On Earth there is more light.
Grows strong, as, compassing this gifted
Enmarbled life, we are uplifted:—
On Earth there is more light.
| [Monody on the death of Horatio Greenough, in] A Memorial of Horatio Greenough consisting of a memoir selections from his writings and tributes to his genius | |