 | Poems by Bernard Barton |  |
270
VERSES
ON AN ENGRAVING FROM A MADONNA BY RAPHAEL.
Although I may not hold their creed
Who, bending low, adore
What thus to outward sense can plead,
Nor feel the want of more;
Yet touching, soothing, and refin'd,
I own its mastery o'er my mind.
Who, bending low, adore
What thus to outward sense can plead,
Nor feel the want of more;
Yet touching, soothing, and refin'd,
I own its mastery o'er my mind.
And may my spirit ever feel
The loveliness benign
Of charms which bear the stamp and seal
Imprinted here on thine:
To Love, and Purity, and Peace,
Oh! never may my homage cease.
The loveliness benign
Of charms which bear the stamp and seal
Imprinted here on thine:
To Love, and Purity, and Peace,
Oh! never may my homage cease.
For every pure delight that springs
From harmony and beauty,
Bears heavenly healing on its wings
To bless the path of duty:
The holiest spell by such made known
Appeals not unto sense alone.
From harmony and beauty,
Bears heavenly healing on its wings
To bless the path of duty:
The holiest spell by such made known
Appeals not unto sense alone.
271
But deep within the immortal mind
The thoughts they waken live,
And to the feelings there enshrin'd
Their own endurance give:
Exalt our hopes, dispel our fears,
And lift us from this vale of tears.
The thoughts they waken live,
And to the feelings there enshrin'd
Their own endurance give:
Exalt our hopes, dispel our fears,
And lift us from this vale of tears.
I would not blindly over-rate
Art's most triumphant dower,
Yet Truth should justly estimate
Its well-directed power,
And yield the tribute of applause
To all that pleads in Virtue's cause.
Art's most triumphant dower,
Yet Truth should justly estimate
Its well-directed power,
And yield the tribute of applause
To all that pleads in Virtue's cause.
To all that bears our souls above,
By showing here on earth
Of meekness, purity, and love
The elevating worth,—
Till every glimpse of glory given
Seems an ascending step to Heaven.
By showing here on earth
Of meekness, purity, and love
The elevating worth,—
Till every glimpse of glory given
Seems an ascending step to Heaven.
| Poems by Bernard Barton | |