 | Gathered in the gloaming |  |
25
To M. P.
(“In excelsior.”)
“I have a sonnet that will serve the turn
To give the onset to my good advice.”
The Two Gentlemen of Verona.
To give the onset to my good advice.”
The Two Gentlemen of Verona.
I
Young singer of the spring-time and the morn—May, with that pure, pale blossom of a name—
I see thy face set to the hill of Fame,
Thy foot in act to climb. Ah, drear, forlorn,
The perilous path, with peak and precipice
And giddy ledge, and toppling fields of ice,
But over all . . the glory. Climb, for now
A far, faint radiance, from the eternal steeps
Descending, like a voiceless welcome leaps,
And touching thee, transfigures lip and brow.
Climb, singer of the Morning and the May!
Climb, strong of heart, and win thy Promised Land;
And when the prime and splendour of the day
Are thine at length . . God keep thee in His hand!
26
II
Art weary, climber? Seems the summit farAs Heaven, or Death? Art still among the snows?
Hark! from yon cloud beneath thee grows and grows
A music sweet, where sweetest musics are—
The lark's—he sings for love, delicious sprite!
For love he follows thee, with circling flight,
And fain would follow still, from star to star,
To catch the spheric tune; but now he sings
His songs of home—of farm and croft and corn—
The homestead, all the dear, familiar things
He winnows up to thee, with beat of wings,
So hoping he may leave thee less forlorn.
Ah! now he falters—now his lay is done—
Art rested, climber? Courage! up and on!
| Gathered in the gloaming | |