The poetical works of John Nicholson ... Carefully edited from the original editions, with additional notes and a sketch of his life and writings. By W. G. Hird |
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 | The poetical works of John Nicholson |  |
When in the Louvre and the Champ de Mars,
He thought of France and all her bloody wars,
With all the arts,—to Paros these gave pain,
While admiration mingled with disdain,
To think what noble works to France were brought,
The noblest statues, by great sculptors wrought,
When thousands fell, and from the sacred shrine
Such works were torn as, France, were never thine;
While the great artists slept within the tomb,
By study hastened to an early home,
Their paintings such as wet the eyes with tears,
With by-past actions of a thousand years,—
Adam and Eve, the flaming sword behind,
So well portrayed, it seemed as if the wind
Bended the flames, or as Eve's flowing hair
Waved with the blast of vengeance that was there,—
The Saviour dead—before the sheet was thrown
O'er Him that made all worlds, and wears the crown.
Great is the imitation!—but I shrink
That greatest artists ever dared to think
To paint the Saviour, giver of all bliss,—
Raphael ne'er could form a face like His,
Could he have seen how fair in death He slept—
The hardest heart that viewed it would have wept.
These things are nothing to the present theme;
Paros believed his Saviour would redeem
Poets and painters, though they wildly roved,
For genius sure in heaven must be beloved.
He thought of France and all her bloody wars,
With all the arts,—to Paros these gave pain,
While admiration mingled with disdain,
To think what noble works to France were brought,
The noblest statues, by great sculptors wrought,
When thousands fell, and from the sacred shrine
Such works were torn as, France, were never thine;
While the great artists slept within the tomb,
By study hastened to an early home,
Their paintings such as wet the eyes with tears,
With by-past actions of a thousand years,—
Adam and Eve, the flaming sword behind,
So well portrayed, it seemed as if the wind
Bended the flames, or as Eve's flowing hair
Waved with the blast of vengeance that was there,—
The Saviour dead—before the sheet was thrown
O'er Him that made all worlds, and wears the crown.
Great is the imitation!—but I shrink
That greatest artists ever dared to think
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Raphael ne'er could form a face like His,
Could he have seen how fair in death He slept—
The hardest heart that viewed it would have wept.
These things are nothing to the present theme;
Paros believed his Saviour would redeem
Poets and painters, though they wildly roved,
For genius sure in heaven must be beloved.
| The poetical works of John Nicholson | |