 | Quaterman's Grace and Other Poems |  |
117
ENVOY TO TRANSLATIONS FROM HEINE.
O shade of Heine, if I dare
Apostrophise that spirit bright,
That lucent spirit, keen and rare,
By other name than that of Light!
Apostrophise that spirit bright,
That lucent spirit, keen and rare,
By other name than that of Light!
Forgive that from your amber verse
I take your tears and make them mine,
And in my ruder speech rehearse
What in your own is so divine.
I take your tears and make them mine,
And in my ruder speech rehearse
What in your own is so divine.
118
Your thoughts I folded to my breast,
I took your words upon my tongue;
Your thoughts rose up in sweet unrest,
Your words were clamorous to be sung;
I took your words upon my tongue;
Your thoughts rose up in sweet unrest,
Your words were clamorous to be sung;
I caught your breath and gave them forth,
But wintry currents changed to sleet
Your burning sighs, your airy mirth;—
And thus I rain them at your feet.
But wintry currents changed to sleet
Your burning sighs, your airy mirth;—
And thus I rain them at your feet.
December 1878.
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