The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince Edited by R. A. Douglas Lithgow |
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TO HYPATIA.
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 | The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince |  |
63
TO HYPATIA.
IN REPLY TO SOME BEAUTIFUL VERSES ADDRESSED TO THE AUTHOR.
I know thee not yet, gentle child of the lyre,—
Thou of the kind and compassionate heart;
But sympathy's song cannot fail to inspire
A wish to behold thee ere life shall depart.
Thou of the kind and compassionate heart;
But sympathy's song cannot fail to inspire
A wish to behold thee ere life shall depart.
My heart speaks to thine with as trembling a tone,
As ever awoke from its feeble strings yet;
But though 'tis unfit to respond to thine own,
It tells that thy bounty I cannot forget.
As ever awoke from its feeble strings yet;
But though 'tis unfit to respond to thine own,
It tells that thy bounty I cannot forget.
If a maiden thou art, in the hey-day of life,
With thy feelings and form in the pride of their spring,
May the hours that fly o'er thee with rapture be rife,
And the purest that fall from old Time's rapid wing!
With thy feelings and form in the pride of their spring,
May the hours that fly o'er thee with rapture be rife,
And the purest that fall from old Time's rapid wing!
But if thou art wedded to one of thy choice,
And duty hath called thee to mix with the world,
May thy heart, in its fondness, have cause to rejoice,
And the banner of love o'er thy head be unfurled!
And duty hath called thee to mix with the world,
May thy heart, in its fondness, have cause to rejoice,
And the banner of love o'er thy head be unfurled!
If the sweet, sacred name of a mother be thine,
And beautiful offspring encircle thy knee;
Long, long may those blessings around thee entwine,
Like tendrils that add to the grace of the tree!
And beautiful offspring encircle thy knee;
Long, long may those blessings around thee entwine,
Like tendrils that add to the grace of the tree!
64
The Muse hath been with thee, that spirit of light,
Which flies not, though friendship and fortune decay;
That star through the darkest and loneliest night,
That rainbow of peace through the stormiest day.
Which flies not, though friendship and fortune decay;
That star through the darkest and loneliest night,
That rainbow of peace through the stormiest day.
Yes, Poesy, sent from some bright source above,
Like a vestal flame burns in the depths of the mind;
'Tis an echo of music, and beauty, and love,
Awaking and melting the hearts of mankind.
Like a vestal flame burns in the depths of the mind;
'Tis an echo of music, and beauty, and love,
Awaking and melting the hearts of mankind.
The poet hath piety, changeless and strong,
Which turns to the wisdom and wonders of God,
For everything claims his glad worship of song,
From a world in the sky to a weed on the sod.
Which turns to the wisdom and wonders of God,
For everything claims his glad worship of song,
From a world in the sky to a weed on the sod.
Abandon not, lady, that glorious dower,
That treasure of thought which thy Maker hath given;
That fervour of feeling,—that language of power,
Those wings of the soul which exalt us to heaven!
That treasure of thought which thy Maker hath given;
That fervour of feeling,—that language of power,
Those wings of the soul which exalt us to heaven!
Farewell to thee, Lady; wherever I be,
Whether shadow or sunshine descend on my brow,
Remembrance shall turn to thy kindness and thee,
And pray for thy peace as sincerely as now.
Whether shadow or sunshine descend on my brow,
Remembrance shall turn to thy kindness and thee,
And pray for thy peace as sincerely as now.
And when, after many but brightening years,
The rich flowers of summer above thee shall wave,
May the pilgrim of Poesy come with his tears,
And touch his sad harp as he weeps o'er thy grave!
The rich flowers of summer above thee shall wave,
May the pilgrim of Poesy come with his tears,
And touch his sad harp as he weeps o'er thy grave!
| The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince | |