Madrigals, songs and sonnets

Poet and Friend! Pause while the bells of Time
Ring out this great division of your days,
And let the cadence of these sombre lays
Be the grave echo of their silver chime;
And as you slowly up to glory climb,
Nigh fainting in the lower thorny ways,
Take solace from th' eternal wreath of bays
That crowns at last this weary brow sublime;
His was a soul whose calm intensity
Glared, shadeless, at the passion-sun that blinds,
Unblinded, till the storm of song arose;—
Even as the patient and Promethean sea
Tosses in sleep, until the vulture winds
Swoop down and tear the breast of its repose.

University of Virginia Library

X. WITH A BIRTHDAY GIFT OF WEBSTER'S PLAYS.