 | The Poems of Selwyn Image |  |
78
SHAKESPEARE
Hail, Master of boundless vision and heart profound!
Thou, to whose magic hand God gave the keys,
Wherewith to unlock for man life's mysteries
In its most dim recesses—yea, to sound
All passionate depths. Yet art thou, Master, crowned
Not with grave laurel only, but heart's-ease,
Kingcaps, rose, eglantine, when thou dost please
In tenderer mood to tread earth's homestead-ground.
Thou, to whose magic hand God gave the keys,
Wherewith to unlock for man life's mysteries
In its most dim recesses—yea, to sound
All passionate depths. Yet art thou, Master, crowned
Not with grave laurel only, but heart's-ease,
Kingcaps, rose, eglantine, when thou dost please
In tenderer mood to tread earth's homestead-ground.
Friend of our youth, our manhood, age—thrice hailed:
For each thou abidest with frank proferred hand
Gentlest in counsel, or for stern command,
Or to enliven with thy frolic wit:
What needest thou of sculptured form unveiled,
Whilst at thy voice nations entranced sit?
For each thou abidest with frank proferred hand
Gentlest in counsel, or for stern command,
Or to enliven with thy frolic wit:
What needest thou of sculptured form unveiled,
Whilst at thy voice nations entranced sit?
December 8th, 1917.
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