Betwixt Two Seas :: :: University of Virginia Library

Bright-eyed companion! when you seek to prove,
While round my path the storm-clouds gather black,
The depth of your unutterable love,
What is the “soul” some tell me that you lack?
Is it not that same spark which (as God's air
May blow at will thro' princely palace panes
Or some poor peasant's hovel, and may share
The glory of the swelling organ-strains
Or lend the pan-pipe of the shepherd-boy
Its cruder music) animates with flame
The greatest and the lowest that enjoy
This breath of life, which might have seem'd the same
In man and beast, but for the outer shell,
The special mechanism that controls
And thro' cach subtle valve of nerve and cell
Elaborates what mortals call their “souls”?

In you, it may be that the vital ray
Shines not from out a many-sconcèd link,
E'en as a little rush-light burns away,
Or little reed-pipe from the river's brink
Set to a shepherd's lip, upon the breeze
Flings forth a fluting treble, even so
The instrument, or, call it what you please,
The channel thro' the which your feelings flow,
Limits your soul's expansion, circumscribes
The freedom and the fleetness of her wing,
Her voice's compass, yet, despite the gibes
Of those who deem you but a soulless thing,
I feel some ray of the Eternal Light,
Some note divine, is surely here indeed,
In rough-hewn torch I watch it beaming bright,
And recognise its music in the reed.