 | Poems by Bernard Barton |  |
229
VERSES
ON SEEING SOME PAINTINGS BY THE OLD MASTERS, AT BREDFIELD HOUSE, THE RESIDENCE OF JOHN FITZGERALD, ESQ.
They err'd not who relied for fame
On works of such magnificence;
Whose charms, unchangeably the same,
Surprise and rapture can dispense.
On works of such magnificence;
Whose charms, unchangeably the same,
Surprise and rapture can dispense.
Their genius, whose conceptions plann'd
What still such feelings can supply;
Their master-touch,—who could command
Such phantoms forth;—have long gone by!
What still such feelings can supply;
Their master-touch,—who could command
Such phantoms forth;—have long gone by!
Yet here triumphantly they live,
With power to waken smiles or tears;
And to unconscious canvas give
What liv'd, and breath'd, in distant years.
With power to waken smiles or tears;
And to unconscious canvas give
What liv'd, and breath'd, in distant years.
230
What still shall captivate,—when we,
Who now with admiration gaze,
Like those who fashion'd them, shall be
The creatures of departed days!
Who now with admiration gaze,
Like those who fashion'd them, shall be
The creatures of departed days!
Still shall that sleeping infant's face
Beauty and innocence reveal;
That sainted mother's matron grace
To every mother's heart appeal.
Beauty and innocence reveal;
That sainted mother's matron grace
To every mother's heart appeal.
Those misty mountains still shall rise,
As now they do; those vales expand;
And still those torrents, trees, and skies
Tell of each master's magic hand.
As now they do; those vales expand;
And still those torrents, trees, and skies
Tell of each master's magic hand.
Oblivion by that art is scorn'd,
Which thus survives the slow decline
Of splendid piles it once adorn'd;—
And still seems deathless, and divine!
Which thus survives the slow decline
Of splendid piles it once adorn'd;—
And still seems deathless, and divine!
| Poems by Bernard Barton | |